Scapegoats II
by paladin1916
Summary: M/M AU OTT OOC C34: Thanks
1. Lay Lady Lay

_Caveat Lector *_

_Your humble author accedes to the suzerainty of Lord Fellowes, Carnival Films, ITV and NBCUniversal._

_This story is a direct continuation of 'Scapegoats'. It is extremely OOC._

_If you disliked any part of 'Scapegoats' you will dislike all of this story so turn back now._

_If you have not already read 'Scapegoats' you should, otherwise this story will not make any sense (this is not to represent or warrant that it will make any sense even then). But before you do you should read the very first review for Scapegoats and two of the last five reviews (the ones by Guest and Ann Onymouse). You may then wish to better engage your attention elsewhere._

_If you are a M/R shipper it is amazing you made it this far. Turn back now, you are obviously lost. _

_If you read DA fanfiction for the fluff turn back back now. There is precious little fluff herein and what there is is thin stuff indeed._

_If you read DA fanfiction for the smut turn back now. In this story there will be innuendo, bawdy humour and a lot of wink, wink, nudge, nudge. There will be no descriptions of the mechanics. The words 'moist' and 'thrust' will not appear in the same paragraph. There may be smut in future stories, the publisher has warned that if readership for this story does not consistently exceed three figures he may be requiring your author to subcontract some smut. _

_This story will deal with mature adult themes including violence. If you are not of the full age of thirty (in terms of maturity, not chronology) turn back now. _

_You have been warned. Read on at your own risk._

_*Bumf required by the Legal Department. The same stuff printed on the back of your ski lift ticket. You do read that don't you? _

_-0-_

_Welcome back Gentle Reader, or given that you have made past all the above screens, perhaps it is better to say welcome back Tough Old Hard Bitten, Seen It All Before, After All That This Better Be Entertaining Or Else Reader._

_This story is appearing earlier than anticipated. It turns out that it is easier to escape from Rehab than one might think if, repeat if, you don't swallow those two pills they give you every four hours and you wait until the dogs are having their after dinner naps. It also helps if you can outrun Charlie._

_As with Scapegoats the chapter titles are songs by Bob Dylan. You might think that this is anachronistic but then again ITV used a Dylan song in a promo for a S03 episode so maybe not. _

_After too much ado about nothing the curtain is set to rise on Scapegoats II (but there's only one scapegoat), the long dreaded continuation of Scapegoats (of which there were four). _

_The version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

_Enjoy. _

Lay Lady Lay

January, 1916

"That was a very nice wedding, small but nice."

"Yes..."

"You're thinking of our wedding."

"Yes"

"We could do it over, do it up right"

"Thanks but I'm only getting married once."

"Sir Anthony seems like a nice sort, a little old maybe"

"Old? Ancient you mean...you know he was Plan B?"

"Oh? Who was Edith's first choice?"

"No, not for Edith. He was my parents' Plan B for me"

"You mean if..."

"You hadn't so graciously proposed I would be Lady Strallen as we speak."

"And the better off for it. Plus you probably would be the Widow Strallen by now. I don't think an old man like him could keep up with some of your, ah.. shall we say more athletic manoeuvres."

"You don't seem to be having any problems."

"But I am a young virile soldier. Speaking of which I think we should go for the record tonight."

"Record?"

"Four times"

"Four? You're going to have to stop falling asleep after the second one."

"The nights are long, we'll have Molesley wake us up every two hours."

"I like to see you explain why. Anyway, what do you mean we? I can stay up."

"Oh you think so? Little Lady 'I Don't Snore'. Many times I've asked you a question and all I've gotten was..."

... snore ...

-0-

"We really should get out of bed"

"We don't have to be to the Abbey for dinner until 7:30"

"We can't stay in bed all day. People will start talking"

"In the last sixty days we've spent more time in bed then out. I think people got tired of talking about us on about day twenty. Besides we need to practise."

"What do you mean practise?"

"You know, keep doing something until you can do it perfectly. As my old piano teacher would say 'The way to get to Royal Albert Hall is to practise, practise, practise.'

"We're not taking this show to Royal Albert Hall. And I didn't know you could play the piano."

"I can't. You see I didn't practice"

"I can see your point, in fact I can feel your point... Let me turn around. ...Once more from the top maestro. And largo please, this is not the 'Flight of the Bumblebee"

-0-

"What did you say to father to get him so riled up?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean. When the two of you rejoined us after dinner father was glaring at you and you had on that fake innocent look, the same one Grannie's cat, Turandot, had when she caught him with her budgie's feathers sticking to his chin. So what did you do to father?"

"All I did was point out to him that he had violated two fundamental military rules and thus put the whole estate in jeopardy. What have you done with your money? You haven't put it back in the estate have you? Have you bought a farm yet?"

"Our money, it's in both our names now, is still basically where you invested it, I've just rolled some of it into war bonds. Father asked me to put it back in the estate but I refused. I haven't bought a farm yet, Sir Anthony thinks that once the war ends land prices will drop. And don't change the subject. What do you mean the estate is in jeopardy?"

"As you know your father wants me to take an active role in managing the estate after the war instead of going back to the law. So this afternoon he let me look through the estate's books. It was not a pretty picture. First of all the books are a mess. You might profitably spend your time studying the 'Principles of Accountancy'. Secondly it appears, no that is the wrong word, there is no doubt about it, your father has invested almost all of the estate's cash reserves in some speculative Canadian Railway. He did this on the basis of some rumour he heard at his club. I checked the latest stock price in the newspaper and he has already lost twenty per cent of his investment. As one military man to another I pointed out to him that he had attacked without having done a proper reconnaissance and then compounded his error by committing his whole reserve. I further pointed out to him that the proper course open to him was to cut his losses and retreat. And if he didn't he could lose the whole estate. I may have implied that I was damn glad he wasn't commanding any troops in the present conflict as he would have lost them all by now. Right after that we rejoined you ladies."

"Oh dear"

"Exactly. I doubt that we will be receiving any further invitations for dinner. And when you find a farm make sure it has a house you'd like to live in."

"What can I do?"

"I'm not sure, maybe get your mother or grandmother to speak to him. I don't know if it'll do any good, you know how stubborn he is."

"I know how stubborn all Crawley men are. I will do what I can. Come closer I think I need to cuddle."

-0-

"Pass the sponge... Thanks ... Doesn't that feel good?"

"It tickles"

"Hey no splashing! Did I ever tell you about discovering that birthmark of yours?"

"I don't have a birthmark."

"Oh yes you do. When I'm drying you off I'll show you where it is. I discovered it when I was giving you one of those bed baths. It'll have to be by touch though; no matter how much you contort, and I've grown to appreciate just how much you can contort, you'll never be able to see it no matter how many mirrors you use."

"What does it look like?"

"Yorkshire...and Downton is right here ... hey what did I tell you about splashing!"

-0-

"Do you have to go tomorrow?"

"You know the King gets quite shirty when his soldiers are absent without leave."

"But ... but you're injured..."

"Not any more, thanks in no part to your tender ministrations..."

"Quit that! We're talking"

"You're talking, I'm listening. Keep talking I find your voice very erotic."

"You find everything erotic. So far you've found me brushing my teeth erotic; me getting my stockings out of my drawer erotic .. speaking of which where did you throw the other one? Not so fast...yes ...yes ... that's it..."

Saturday, January 29, 1916

They could hear the train whistle in the distance. Matthew pulled Mary into an embrace.

"Matthew it's not proper..."

"A soldier's farewell is entirely proper in wartime" he nuzzled her neck. "We haven't talked about it but there is a chance I won't..."

"You're coming back" she interrupted.

He kept on "If I don't please take care of mother..."

"Of course we will"

"... and don't mourn me too long. Find someone, other than that damn Carlisle, and move on..."

"Don't talk like that! You're coming back and I'll be waiting for you."

They held their embrace until the conductor called 'All Aboard'.

As Matthew was boarding the train Mary handed him something.

She called out to him "It's my good luck charm."

The train pulled out of the station and Matthew watched with his head out the window until he could not see her anymore. He then looked down at the object she had given him. It was a little stuffed animal, a dog.


	2. Matthew's Dream

_A/N: The chapter title song's title is actually 'Bob Dylan's Dream' which is too anachronistic even for this story. The version by Bryan Ferry is recommended._

Matthew's Dream

Friday, June 30, 1916

Matthew and his second in command, Thomas Silverfish, were scurrying down a trench, heading for their bunker to catch some sleep, having just concluded their final briefing with the Hard Men, when they heard the unmistakable whistle of an incoming artillery projectile. One which was going to land close, too close in fact. Without hesitation they ducked into the nearest bunker.

There was a tremendous explosion nearby and the bunker shook. Dust trickled down from the ceiling. They waited for the equivalent of the German 'If I had good sense I wouldn't be here. Fire!' to pass. Sure enough there was another explosion. They were in for a barrage. 'Did you bring an umbrella?' 'No'. They started looking around the bunker. Maybe there were some bunks to kip on. They weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

There were bunks and on them sat four very young, very new second lieutenants. Four petrified boys masquerading as second lieutenants.

"Aren't you going over the top in the morning?" Matthew asked. One nodded and so he suggested "You should be getting some sleep."

"We can't sleep sir" one answered.

"First time?" Another one nodded. Just then there was another explosion and all four of the second lieutenants startled. There was a whimper but Matthew couldn't tell from whom. They huddled together. They couldn't go on like this, by dawn they would be basket cases. He clapped his hands. They all stared at him. "Well if you can't sleep we'll have to do something else to pass the time. How about a song!" Thomas looked at him like he had gone mad. "In the key of G", he had no idea what that meant but it sounded right and he started singing:

"_I am the very model of a modern Major-General, _

_I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral..." _

He motioned for them to join in. First Thomas did and then one of the second lieutenants and then the rest joined in. They sang on, with musical accompaniment provided by the percussion section of the Kaiserreichsheer Philharmonic, occasionally stopping to argue over the lyrics, until, with Teutonic punctuality, the barrage stopped after exactly one hour. They brought the song home:

"_For my military knowledge, though I'm plucky and adventury, _

_Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century; _

_But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_I am the very model of a modern Major-General."_

Matthew stood up. He addressed the four second lieutenants: "Now you get some sleep, dawn comes awfully early. And when you go over the top watch for some blue flares on the German lines. My friend and I are going to go out a little early and clear some lanes for you lads. Good Luck."

They stood and saluted him. One said "Thank you sir"

The next day, July 1, 1916, was the first day of the Battle of the Somme. On it the British Army suffered almost sixty thousand casualties, the worst day in its history. Among the causalities were the four very new, very young second lieutenants; two dead and two wounded.

July, 1916

The telegrams started coming the end of the first week of July. Six in all. Six for families of Downton Abbey.

They were delivered by the telegraph agent himself. He did not entrust these to his messenger boy. For ones to families on Downton Abbey he stopped at the Great House first.

Each time Carson announced the arrival of the telegraph agent Mary stopped breathing. She did not start again until it was clear the telegram was not for her.

The telegraph agent, the Earl and Mary, for the Countess was busy working on the transformation of the Great House into a convalescent hospital, would all go to deliver the news.

The first time Mary thought she could maintain her poise and offer her pro forma condolences. But the wife knew as soon as she saw Branson drive up. She was holding a little girl of maybe two years of age in her left arm and with her right hand she pulled up her apron and started sobbing into it. Her daughter started crying as well. Mary took the little girl out of the mother's hands and comforted her. She walked down the road a bit, singing a soft lullaby, as she did not want to hear, and she did not want the child to hear, although she could not possibly understand, the telegraph agent doing his duty. She tried to keep the tears in her eyes out of her voice as she sang.

Mary cried each time. Even the time the old woman opened the door of her cottage, looked at the three of them standing there, held out her hand for the telegram, took it, and closed the door in their faces.

The worst visit was to the stables. Mary hadn't been there since that terrible day on which the Army had requisitioned Diamond. Lynch saw them walk in. He recognized the telegraph agent. He put down the currycomb he was using and walked down the alley to the tack room. They followed him. In the far corner was a small table and three chairs next to a cupboard where the veterinary medicines were kept. Lynch called it his office. He reached into the cabinet and pulled a brown bottle from the very back of the top shelf. It was marked 'Horse Liniment'. There were three battered china mugs on the table, none of them too clean. He rummaged around in the cupboard and found a somewhat dirtier tumbler. He splashed a finger of 'liniment' into the tumbler and each of the mugs. He handed the cleanest of the mugs to Mary and gave the other mugs to the Earl and the telegraph agent. He raised the tumbler and toasted "To Alexander". They all clinked their mugs to his tumbler and drank. The whiskey, for that is what it was, burned down Mary's throat. The telegraph agent made his goodbyes as he had to get back to his post. Lynch, Robert and Mary sat down around the little table. Mary sat and watched her father and Lynch finish off the bottle as they told each other stories about the lives and the deaths of the great horses of Downton Abbey. They never once mentioned Alexander. As she listened tears streamed down her cheeks.

Wednesday, August 2, 1916

Mary and Isobel each received a letter from Matthew. Mary did not let Isobel read Matthew's letter to her out of embarrassment at the thought of her mother-in-law reading the naughty bits and innuendo. She knew a censor had read the letter but he did not know her. Isobel most certainly did. Out of reciprocity she did not read Matthew's letter to his mother. But they did compare notes.

Even though Britain was in the midst of the bloodiest battle in its history; even though the casualty lists were consuming whole sections of the newspapers; even though her father's friend, Freddie, at the War Office, had confirmed it was worse, much worse, than the newspapers dared print; even though they at home had experienced a wave of bereavements, the two highlights according to Matthew's two letters were a lark he had seen flying over the battlefield and an impromptu glee club he and 'some of the lads' had started. Singing! In some bucolic setting! Mary's irritation at what, there was no point in denying it, Matthew's blatant lies to her and his mother threatened to overwhelm her fear for his safety. She dared not say this to him in a letter. The last thing he needed in the midst of all that horror was a bitchy letter from his wife. But they were going to have a good talk when, not if, never if, he got home. She was his wife, she was entitled to share things, everything, good and bad, with him.

Sunday, November 19, 1916

Col. Flashman waved Matthew and Thomas Silverfish to chairs. He picked up three glasses and a bottle of cognac from his cabinet. He poured them each a drink. He proposed a toast:

"To absent friends"

They drank.

"It's over" he announced. Matthew and Thomas stared at him. "The Battle of the Somme is over. The armies will now hunker down for the winter. All raids are cancelled until further notice".

"What is the final butcher's bill?" asked Matthew.

Flashman didn't like the look in his captain's eyes; even though they were in a cozy little room of what once had been this town's town hall, Crawley looked like he was watching something on the horizon with eyes that only had been closed for sleep three hours in the last two days. "It hasn't been tallied yet..." he couldn't lie to these men, they knew the score "but it is probably over three hundred and fifty thousand."

"How far did we advance?" Matthew asked. He knew but he wanted the Colonel to say it.

"About seven miles"

The three of them could all do the math. Ten men dead and wounded for each foot. Matthew reached across and picked up the bottle. He refilled their glasses. He raised his glass:

"To the dead"

No one said anything for a long time.

"If your men were given a long leave how many would return?" Flashman asked.

The Hard Men? "How long is long?" Matthew asked.

"December 1 to January 31"

Matthew looked at Thomas who shrugged. "Most of them" Thomas nodded.

"Good. I'll have the orders drawn up. They will include you two. Get some rest."

Matthew and Thomas stood up and saluted. They were dismissed.


	3. Walkin' Down The Line

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Robin & Linda Williams is recommended._

Walkin' Down The Line

Monday, December 4, 1916

Matthew set his bag on the hall floor just inside the door. He looked around. The house looked curiously bare.

He had just finished hanging up his hat and coat when he heard his mother coming from the back of the house. He smiled as she saw him and started hurrying towards him. He held out his arms to her.

After the fervent greetings of a mother who hadn't seen her soldier son in almost a year and had been worried sick throughout they settled around the kitchen table, between them the old Brown Betty teapot and a plate of Matthew's favourite chocolate biscuits which she had been hoarding for just this occasion.

Matthew looked around the kitchen, It looked bare. There was a box in the corner with pots and pans in it. "It looks like you're packing" he ventured. He was surprised to see that his mother looked embarrassed..

"I am actually"

Matthew stared at her. "What's going on?"

"I'm taking a position with the Red Cross helping refugees" she paused gauging his reaction "in France."

"What?"

"Don't worry. It's in Paris, it's not anywhere near the fighting"

"You do know the Germans are shelling Paris?"

"Yes, but I've been told it's random; that you are more at risk of being hit by an auto while you're crossing the street."

Matthew had to admit she was right about that. "What brought this on?" Now his mother looked shame faced.

"The Countess of Grantham and I had a disagreement about how the convalescent hospital should be run which got out of hand."

"The Countess? You mean Cousin Cora?"

"I mean Her Ladyship, the Countess of Grantham. Anyway, long story short, harsh words were spoken and I felt that for the good of all concerned I should remove myself from Downton."

"Harsh words? Not just by you I hope."

"No, the Countess more than held her own."

"So I imagine there was something you wanted to do one way and she wanted done another way; how did that escalate to the point you are going into exile?"

"The Countess played her trump card"

"Which was?"

"That it was her family's house, her family's estate and that I was only here as her family's guest." She gave him a wan smile. "And you know a good guest leaves before she gets thrown out."

"So when do we have to be out?"

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "No, no you're part of their family now. I am leaving on January 2nd. Mary is having your stuff moved up to the Great House next week and she has arranged to have my stuff stored in one of their warehouses until I can make other arrangements."

"Speaking of Mary, do you know where..."

"She would have been here if she had known you were coming. We all thought you were coming tomorrow."

"Sorry about that, I got away early and all my connections worked out. So where does Mary stand in all this?"

"Don't blame her for any of it. She was going to take my side but I told her she couldn't go against her mother. She did her best to be a peacemaker but once certain lines were crossed there was nothing she could do..."

"You do know that's how this war got started? So where's Mrs. Bird and Ellen?"

"Mrs. Bird has moved in with her widowed sister in Weatherfield. They are going to run a little tearoom close to one of the munition factories. Ellen has left to work in one of those factories."

"And the good doctor? I thought there was maybe a little something between you two?"

"I wouldn't go that far, we were just very good friends, that's all. Given his position he..."

"Sold you out for a mess of pottage?"

She laughed. "Yes, I suppose he did"

"Anyway I will not desert you. You are not going to spend December alone"

"No, you must go..."

"No, you told Mary she shouldn't go against her mother, I will not go against mine. If you've worn out your welcome, I can't be too far behind. Now if you don't mind I'm going to go to bed. I am very tired." He got up and pointed at his mother "And don't be sending that boy up to the Great House with any messages for Mary. The plan was that I would see her tomorrow and I will, when I am well rested."

His mother got up as well. "Well Billy Brown joined up as soon he turned sixteen and I'm certainly not going to go up there myself so you're safe until tomorrow. Do you want me to get you up at any particular time?"

"No, let me sleep in. Oh the station agent is going to arrange for some parcels to be delivered I had shipped as freight."

"I'll take care of them. Now how about you have a hot bath while I get your bed made up?"

Tuesday, December 5, 1916 on

Matthew was having the most pleasant dream. He and Mary were in bed. He was laying on his side. She was cuddled up to his back and her free hand was tracing circles around his belly button and parts south. He felt like purring.

His eyes snapped open. There was a hand tickling him. He reached behind him and ran his hand along a naked hip. He could hear a humming in his ear that certainly sounded like purring.

"Give me a minute to get out of these pyjamas" he said.

It only took him four seconds.

-0-

They lay in each others arms. He was stroking her back.

"Let me know when you're hungry. Mrs. Patmore packed a picnic lunch for us"

"I'll show you what I'm hungry for"

-0-

They were finishing up the last of the fruit cake. Never Matthew's favourite but he supposed it would be a long time before he saw chocolate biscuits again.

"I have something to tell you and I don't want you to get angry" Mary said.

Matthew stared at her. He had a horrible flash that she was going to tell him that she was pregnant, for which he was immediately ashamed, but then he realized she was going to give him her family's side of his mother's banishment. "Go on" he said in an even tone.

"Evelyn Napier is at the Abbey"

That was certainly a surprise. "He is?"

"Yes, he was wounded at the Somme and when he heard that Downton Abbey was a convalescent hospital he asked to be sent here."

Matthew considered this. Ordinarily the sight of the man would get his back up but these were not ordinary times were they? "It's not a problem"

Matthew could see the relief on Mary's face turn to suspicion.

"Why isn't it a problem?" she asked.

"I don't imagine I will see him"

"But you'll see him at the Abbey"

"No I won't. While my mother is not welcome at the Abbey I consider that I am not welcome either."

"But .. but you'll miss Christmas, the Servants' Ball, New Year's and..."

"Mother and I will celebrate here. You're invited. If you want to come."

"But what about after she leaves? Crawley House is going to be shut up .."

He shrugged. "I can always find somewhere to bunk" He paused. "Tell me. This thing with our mothers. Was it all on my mother's part?"

"No. No, my mother gave as good as she got."

"Did your mother really tell my mother that she was only in Downton on sufferance?"

Mary nodded. "More or less"

"Thanks for saying you would support mother but she was right, you shouldn't go against your family"

"But you can"

"Apparently they're not my family"

"Father won't be happy"

"He's going to have to learn to live with it."

"What's it going to take you to come around?"

"Recognition my mother and I are family and are welcome as such"

"Why does my mother have to take the first step?"

"Because she won. It's up to the victor to be magnanimous."

"It may take awhile for my mother to come around"

"I am patient. In some respects." He reached across and picked a crumb of fruit cake off of her bare breast and ate it. "In other respects not so much" He put his hand behind her head and pulled it towards him. "Let us not let the sins of the mothers be visited on their children" and kissed her.


	4. Winterlude

_A/N: the version of the chapter t__itle song by __Björn Ekengren is recommended._

Winterlude

December 7, 1916 on

Their days fell into an easy rhythm. Sleep in. A combined breakfast and lunch, brunch you could call it. A long walk in the early afternoon, often through the grounds of the Abbey, avoiding the small groups of soldier patients, never going up to the Great House. Then a nap back at Crawley House, if you could call it that for all the rest they got. High Tea with Isobel and then after they had washed up the three of them would sit in the drawing room. Isobel and Mary would try to make small talk but within fifteen minutes, without fail, Matthew would stifle an enormous fake yawn, stand up, take Mary by the hand and say 'I guess its bedtime', and they would scurry upstairs. As Isobel told Violet over tea one day, 'they haven't made it past seven o'clock yet'.

Matthew did all the cooking. As he told Mary Mrs. Bird had taught him. After his father died there had been no money for a nanny and so he had followed Mrs. Bird around and as he got bigger fell into the role of kitchen helper. He could boil and roast but frying was his forte. Next to salt, grease was his favourite seasoning. It seemed that brown sauce, and in the alternative, ketchup, accompanied everything.

Mary did not help with the cooking but as Matthew assured her, those who sit and gaze adoringly at the cook also serve. She did help with the washing up but only to dry the dishes. Isobel refused to let her put her hands in the hot soapy dishwater.

Each day Anna brought Mary clothes. Day clothes, there was no point in evening wear, she was hardly upright at night. She had dispensed with corsets; with Matthew serving as her maid they were just an invitation to dalliance, and anything with fiddly buttons, as he could do them up, but undoing them he had a tendency to hurry and take direct action when they slowed him down.

Anna also brought messages from the Great House. Invitations mostly, to Matthew and Mary, never including Isobel, to various dinners and such. Matthew answered them all with variations of:

_'Lord and Lady Grantham:_

_Captain & Mrs. Crawley are unable to accept your kind invitation to dine on December _, 1916._

_We wish you and your family all the best of the Christmas season._

_Yours truly_

_Matthew Crawley" _

During the lead up to Christmas they did dine with the Strallans and had tea several times with the Dowager Countess. After all, as Matthew pointed out, the feud was not with them.

Shortly before Christmas, the Earl intercepted them on one of their walks across the grounds.

"It is good to see you Matthew, we have missed you at the Abbey" and he offered Matthew his hand.

Matthew shook it. "It is a pleasure to see you your Lordship."

"Come now, there is no need of such formality, we two are not at war" remonstrated Robert.

Matthew smiled "Cousin Robert then. I have missed the Abbey."

"Then you must accept one of our invitations."

"You know I cannot while my mother and your wife are at loggerheads"

"Can there be no compromise? I think that Christmas has always been Mary's favourite season" Robert gave his daughter a fond glance.

Mary smiled. It was a magical time for her.

"Then I have the perfect compromise" Matthew said "Mary will spend Christmas at the Abbey as my proxy."

Mary and Robert both looked at him like he was mad.

"Look Christmas means more to Mary then it does to me." Matthew explained. "Growing up it was always a sad time for my mother and I; it was when we missed my father the most. We would exchange gifts and have a simple meal. Mrs. Bird always visited her sister over the holidays so it was just the two us having a quiet day at home. That first Christmas we were at Downton and you had us over I must admit we were quite overwhelmed" and intimidated he thought. "So let Mary enjoy the season and I will partake in her enjoyment vicariously."

Robert considered this. "If you insist"

"I do"

"And Mary, what do you think?" her father asked her.

She hesitated and Matthew answered for her. "She will of course say that it is her duty to stay beside her husband's side but as her husband I would say hang duty, it is Christmas after all. It is only for a few days and we still have January to be together. So will you go Mary?"

"If you insist" she said.

"I do, consider it part of my Christmas present to you."

"Thank you, it means a lot to me" and she kissed Matthew on the cheek.

The three walked along, Robert and Matthew talking about the administration of the estate, until they had to part, Robert heading up to the Great House, and Matthew and Mary towards the village.

"Are you sure it'll be OK?" Mary asked. "You made it sound so sad."

Matthew shrugged. "There's no way around it, my mother tried her best but like I said my father wasn't there. For instance there were gifts a father might get for his son, like a jackknife or a slingshot, that my mother never got for me. So while my friends were showing me their dangerous toys all I could show them in return was a book and a jumper. Last Christmas was the only one I can remember as being happy, but then we were on our honeymoon and I received the most remarkable gifts" and he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.

Only after she had had the full enjoyment of the kiss did Mary pull away and chastise him "Not in public, half the village must have seen that."

"Then we had better do it again for the other half" and they did.


	5. One Too Many Mornings

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Johnny Cash and the Avett Brothers is recommended. _

One Too Many Mornings

Tuesday, December 19, 1916

Mary and Matthew were sitting in the drawing room. Isobel had gone out, visiting a friend she said.

"I would like to say something to you, which may sound like criticism, and I don't want you to get angry" Mary said.

Matthew stared at her. "You are going to have to quit starting conversations like that. You make me feel like a grenade with the pin pulled."

She smiled at him. "Well you have quite a temper..."

"Not any more. I took the Army's anger management course. Now I don't get mad, I just go kill someone." He smiled at her. "So what is this criticism of me? Enquiring minds would like to know."

"It is not criticism of you" she insisted "It's just that your letters..." she got up and retrieved some of his letters from where she had placed them on the mantle. "Are not very ..." she searched for the right word, she did not want to accuse him of lying to her by omission, but still... "candid." When he started to object she held up her hand. "Let me finish. As your wife I am entitled to know what you are going through. We heard how bad the Somme was and all you wrote me was about larks and singing" And here she read him the offending passages.

He was silent for long time. When he did speak, it was not with anger. He spoke slowly as if he were explaining something to a child. "You have no idea how bad it was. I do not want you to know how bad it was. You would not be able to stand it. You have not been hardened like me. If I told you how bad it really was you would be horrified. You would hate me. I write of bucolic things to you because I can escape the battlefield that way. I think of Downton Abbey as Eden and you as Eve, all before the Fall. I beg of you do not demand that I give you the apple. Keep your innocence."

"But I am your wife. I love you. I'd never hate you. Let me carry some of the burden." She was desperate. "I've seen the maimed soldiers at the hospital. I have read the lists of the fallen. I am strong I can bear it."

He sniffed. He got up and started pacing about the room. He did not raise his voice but it did get colder.

"You've seen a sleeve neatly pinned up. I've seen the arm flopping about on the ground without a body attached to it. You've seen lists of the names of the dead. I've seen countless nameless bodies strewn about and not at all prettified by some undertaker. I've seen bodies with holes in every place you can think of, parts of bodies, bodies so mutilated you can't tell if they are man or beast."

He glared at her. "So where do you want me to start? How about your senses? I can tell you what the inside of a soldier smells like when he has just been blown up. I can tell you what a battlefield smells like in the hot summer sun, the smell of rotting flesh, shit, piss, chlorine gas and gunpowder. I can tell you what it's like to wipe your sleeve across your face and feel a chunk someone's brains slide across it. You know dying men cry out for their mothers? I've heard it in at least a dozen different languages. I've seen men die in every which way. Pick one and I'll tell you what it looks like"

Mary stared back at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He continued. "Do you want me to tell you about the men I've killed? No?"

He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. She blew her nose.

He concluded. "I can see you don't really want to know but I am going to tell you the most horrible thing of all. It's that none of that bothers me. It's that I am a hard man. Let me tell you a story.

We had just got back from a night raid. It had been brutal. We didn't achieve full surprise and so we had to fight our way in and back out again. We were still in no mans land when the sun came up and so we had to hide in shell holes until night fell again. No food and the only water was what there was in the bottom of the holes. Then the Germans started an artillery barrage and we had to spend the night there as well. After thirty hours we finally made it back to our lines and the only thing to eat was what they said was pease porridge. Well it was green and warm anyway and we were sitting there in the trench eating it when we heard one last projectile incoming. You can tell by the sound if it was going to be close and it wasn't so we kept on eating. It must have hit an ammo dump or something because there was a godawful explosion and debris rained down on us. I looked down in my bowl and there was the top two thirds of a finger on top of the porridge. I remember looking at it and thinking that it must have come from an officer because the fingernail was clean and well trimmed. I reached under the finger with my spoon and flicked it out onto the floor of the trench. Then I finished eating the rest of the porridge.

Now if you want I can fill my letters to you with stories like that but I'd rather tell you about that lark flying over the battlefield. Your call. Now if you excuse me I'm going to go for a walk. Alone."

He went to the closet, put on his coat and went out. Mary stared at the door.

-0-

When Matthew did not return after an hour Mary put her coat on and went out looking for him. It was the winter solstice and night was falling early.

She thought of checking the Grantham Arms but she did not think that he would go there, not in the mood he was in. She thought he might have headed up to the Abbey, to their bench. But before heading that way she decided to check the church.

The church was dark. She walked up to the altar looking down the pews but he was not there. She said a short prayer, 'please Lord let me find him. Let him be OK'. On the way out of the church she looked into the graveyard, saw nothing, turned away and then stopped. There had been something peeking just above the headstones.

She headed towards Matthew John's headstone. And there she found Matthew, sitting on the cold ground, leaning back against her grandfather's headstone staring at their son's headstone. She squatted down beside him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Pondering my mortality"

She reached out and took his hands and pulled. "Come on back to the house and get warmed up."

He yanked her back and she fell onto his lap. She scrambled up so she was sitting properly on it. If such a position was proper at all.

She took off her glove and caressed his cheek. It was freezing. "You're not a hard man, not all the way through. I know that over there you have to have a hard shell in order to survive. But you don't have to with me. You can be soft with me. You're right that I don't want to hear those horrid stories but you can be open with me. Tell me about the larks and tell me you love me. If you are afraid you can admit it to me."

He nuzzled her hand. "I'm not afraid. At least not in the way you might think. I'm not afraid of dying. I've accepted that sometime in the next two years I will meet my doom. The way the war is going it is inevitable. What I am afraid of is what will become of you and mother when I'm gone. I'm also afraid of being maimed. I've made my sergeant promise that if I'm injured that bad he'll make sure I've got my revolver in my hand pointed in the right direction. I'm most afraid of the blackness that steals over me. It's Death calling me to come join him. There have been times we've been fighting when Harper, my sergeant, or Silverfish, my lieutenant, have had to pull me back" He kissed her. "I'll try to be more forthcoming in my letters to you but there some things I will never, ever tell you." He kissed her again. "You know I think my arse is frozen to the ground. How about we go back to the house and share a hot bath?"

Mary laughed and got up. She pulled him up.

Somewhat later as he was towelling her back he whispered in her ear. "Remember how you said I could be soft with you?" She nodded but did not turn around. "Well I'm afraid that for the next fifteen minutes or so I won't be able to"

She reached behind her and took him in hand. As she was leading him to the bedroom she said over her shoulder "Only fifteen minutes? I'll be disappointed."

She wasn't.


	6. I'll Be Home For Christmas

_A/N: An inversion of the usual practice. Bob Dylan did not write the chapter title song. He does sing it however and his version is the recommended version._

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Monday, December 25, 1916

Matthew rolled over and looked at his alarm clock.

"Mary wake up" he shook her shoulder "You're going to be late for the festivities up at the Abbey"

"Hmmm" she buried deeper under the covers.

"Mary get up!"

"I'm not going"

"What do you mean? You told them you would go"

"I sent them a message yesterday and told them I was sick"

"Sick? With what?"

"Infectious lovingitis"

"That sounds serious. How do you treat it?"

"Stay in bed and get plenty of injections."

"Oh. When are you due for the next injection?"

"In about five minutes"

-0-

Mary stared at her present from Matthew. He gave her an encouraging look.

"Aren't you going to open it?" He gave her a claw hammer.

"Thank you" She looked at the wooden crate on the floor, a cube about two feet on a side. She looked at the hammer.

"Oh Matthew quit teasing. Give her a hand" his mother said.

Matthew took the hammer from Mary and pried off the top of the crate. There was a layer of excelsior. "Go on" he said to Mary.

She lifted off the excelsior. She could see the tops of little bronze figures. It was a sculpture of some sort. She reached into the box and tried to lift it out. It was very heavy. She gave up and said to Matthew "Do you mind?"

He reached in the crate, took out the sculpture and carried it over and placed it on the mantle He cleared away a bit of the packing which had been sticking to it and then stepped out of the way so Mary and Isobel could see.

It was a tableau of three figures on a rocky seashore. There was a very naked maiden chained to a post. Defending her from a three headed sea monster was a man in a tunic and Greek helmet wielding a sword.

Mary stared at the sculpture and then at Matthew. He clearly was expecting some sort of effusive thanks. She was reluctant to give it to him. How was she going to explain it to his mother? Who had gone over to the mantle and was peering at it through her reading spectacles.

"What exactly is this supposed to be?" Isobel asked.

Behind her back Mary glared at Matthew. "It appears to be a representation of a Greek myth" answered Mary. "The maiden, Andromeda, is supposed to be sacrificed to the sea monster, but is being rescued by the hero, Perseus."

Isobel had a vague recollection of someone having mentioned something about the myth at some dinner at the Abbey or such. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. She looked from Mary to Matthew and back. Clearly the myth meant something to them. She knew better than to ask. Instead she said "Is that then?"

Matthew retrieved a small box wrapped in pretty paper and handed it to Mary. Mary opened it. Inside there was a small cut glass decanter of perfume. She pulled out the stopper and sniffed. There was a scent of roses and rain and spring. It made her chest ache for him. She gave Matthew a bright smile. This would be reserved for special occasions. She walked over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. She whispered in his ear "Thank you for the perfume. I love it. Perseus and his friends are going on the top of your armoire." Louder, so Isobel could hear what she said "I have one more thing for you."

Mary got a flat rectangular present and gave it to Matthew. He tore the wrapping off and opened the box. Inside was a slingshot made out of a Y shaped piece of tree branch and auto inner tubes.

"Wow" Matthew said turning it over and over in his hands."I've always wanted..."

Isobel looked at him. "You be careful with that, you could put out someone's eye.."

"Mother I'm a trained soldier." Matthew whined.

Isobel harrumphed. "I'm going to make some tea" and she went into the kitchen.

Matthew sat down by Mary. "Where did you get this? It's beautiful."

"Lynch made it for me. Now you will be careful with it won't you?"

"You women." He picked up a hazelnut out of the nut bowl and put it in the pocket of the slingshot. He pulled the pocket back a little 'just to test the elasticity of the rubber' when he lost his grip on the pocket. The hazelnut flew across the room and broke a china figurine on the table under the window. Matthew gave Mary a panicked look, dropped the slingshot in her lap and disappeared. There was not a better word for it, one second he was there and the next he was gone.

The next second after that Isobel came charging out of the kitchen. She looked at the broken figurine and then at Mary. She told Mary "you should know that they never ever grow up" and held out her hand. Mary handed her the slingshot.

-0-

"Where do you think she put it?"

"I don't know, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I'm surprised the army lets you have weapons"

Matthew tried to change the subject "You're not still mad about Percy are you?" He gestured at the sculpture, now safely ensconced on top of the armoire.

She straddled him and grabbed his ears. She leaned down and kissed him. "No, but let's keep it our private joke shall we?" She moved so his nose was between her breasts. "Smell" she commanded.

"Ahh. Is that..?"

"Yes. Do you remember where you bought it?"

"Yes"

"When you go back to France I want you to buy up their whole supply and ship it to me. I don't want you to ever smell it on another woman"

"You know I think it has restorative properties"

"I suspected as much. Now how about a little action or are you going to talk all night?"

_A/N: May you be home for Christmas, if only in your dreams_


	7. Jokerman

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Eliza Gilkyson is recommended._

Jokerman

Tuesday, March 27, 1917

Robert greeted Mary as she entered the breakfast room. "You have received a letter from your Aunt Rosamund."

"Oh?"

He waved a letter at her. "I've received the same letter."

"What does it say?"

"Read yours."

Mary opened it.

"_Dear Mary:_

_I know that I am the last person you want to hear from but I feel I must warn you._

_Sir Richard is obsessed with you. I thought he had gotten over you this last year but it turns out that he has just been brooding._

_He told me "If Lady Mary won't come to Sir Richard then Sir Richard must go to Lady Mary"._

_I do not know what exactly he meant by this. I do know that he is ruthless in accomplishing his goals in business. I am afraid that he will be ruthless in trying to accomplish his goals in love, twisted though that love might be._

_Be on your guard Mary, Sir Richard is a very dangerous man._

_I am writing your father, your grandmother and your husband in the hopes that at least one of you will take this seriously._

_I know that I have not always shown it but I remain your loving aunt_

_Rosamund" _

Mary stared at her father.

"I heard a most disturbing rumour last night" he gave her a concerned look "that Sir Richard has purchased Haxby Park."

Good Friday, April 6, 1917

Sir Richard had purchased Haxby Park.

This was confirmed when the Crawleys met him after the Good Friday church services.

He greeted them at the church door as if their last encounter had never happened.

"Lord Grantham, Ladies" he was effusive as he doffed his hat. "What a pleasure to meet you on this fine spring day. Now that we are neighbours I hope to see you more often." He was staring at Mary as he said this. "Good Day" and he left for his auto.

"Well the nerve of the man!" sniffed Violet.

They all looked at Mary. She felt as if she were in a trance, that she had a chain around her neck and Sir Richard was slowly reeling her in. 'Perseus where are you?' she cried out in her mind.

Mary could not attend church or other public functions in the village without meeting Sir Richard. He attended everything. He was everywhere. He sought her out to talk. He tried to take her hand or touch her on one pretext or another. He was always offering to be her partner in this or that activity. Her rude rebuffs of him only seemed to increase his ardour.

And he was carving out a prominent niche in local society. He endowed a scholarship at the village school. He donated a cup for the winner of the best vegetable garden.

And he entertained. He held dinners and garden parties. He invited all the local notables. He always invited the Crawleys and they always refused. Of course other people did not know the reason for their refusal and so they were condemned as being overly proud and prejudiced.

And he spread rumours. There was no proof that he was responsible but who else would it profit for word to get around that he and Lady Mary were lovers. That they met at night on the boundary where Downton Abbey adjoined Haxby Park and that was why they could not be seen together in public.

Aunt Rosamund wrote from London that gossip had it that Sir Richard had retired to the wilds of Yorkshire to be close to his lover, Lady Mary Crawley, because she refused to live in town.

Mary became a prisoner at Downton Abbey.

She could not go anywhere outside the Great House without an escort. Robert gave her a whistle, the same kind used in the trenches, to use if anything untoward happened.

She could not walk out of sight of the Great House. She could not walk to the village. Any trip beyond the immediate grounds had to be by auto with her father and Bates both accompanying her.

Robert took to wearing his army sidearm at all times. Bates and Lynch, both former soldiers, were issued revolvers from the Estate's collection of weapons. Branson, a pacifist, refused a revolver but he kept a tire iron next to his driver's seat.

And so it went throughout 1917, Sir Richard patiently setting his snares while Lady Mary sank into despair, fearing that her Perseus would never come.

Saturday, September 29, 1917

Sir Richard did manage to break through the ring of defenders surrounding Mary once.

She had gone with her mother and Edith to Ripon. Lynch had accompanied them, riding in front with Branson.

They had all thought she would be safe, word being that Sir Richard was in London on business, and so they were all careless.

Mary had finished being fitted for her dress and instead of waiting for her mother and sister she told them she was just going to go browse in the book store across the high street. Outside she told Branson and Lynch they could stay with the auto, after all they could see the front of the bookshop from where they stood.

Mary was looking at a copy of Ibsen's 'The Master Builder', she did not think she would like it, when she heard the bell on the front door ring. She looked up to see Sir Richard entering the shop. He smiled at her. She froze.

He turned to the clerk and gave him some cash "Here's ten pounds. Go get yourself some tea. Keep the change. Don't come back for a half an hour." The clerk took the bills, looked at them, looked at Mary and Sir Richard, and then fled through the front door. Sir Richard locked the door. He put the 'closed' sign up.

"How did you...?" Mary asked.

Sir Richard gestured at the front window. "Your men are occupied." He advanced towards her.

Mary looked. Branson and Lynch were arguing with a third man, no doubt Sir Richard's chauffeur. She moved so there was a waist high bookcase between them.

"What do you want?"

"You of course. Look I'm not some border reiver raiding down from the north to rustle your father's cattle and kidnap you. I am a patient man." As he spoke he keeping moving and in reaction Mary moved so the bookcase was always between them. "You want me and you know it. Every night you look out your window towards Haxby Park and think of the pleasure that awaits you." His voice was low and soft and hypnotic. "You are going to come to Haxby Park with me" He held out his hand. "Come my darling".

Mary picked up a heavy book, from the heft of it probably a dictionary, but she dared not take her eyes off of Sir Richard to look at the title.

He laughed at her. "What are you going to do with that? Brain me with it?" He snorted.

Mary threw the book through the window.

The sound of breaking glass got the attention of Branson and Lynch. They started running towards the bookshop. Branson had the tire iron in his hand. Sir Richard saw them coming. He looked at Mary.

"You had better run you bastard before you do get brained" she told him.

He hurriedly unlocked the door and ran away to the left. He could hear Mary's laughter behind him.

As Mary was leaving the shop with Branson and Lynch the clerk came running up. He stared at the broken window and then at her.

She gave the clerk an insincere smile. "You can pay for the window out of the change from your tea money"


	8. My Back Pages

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song played at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert is recommended._

My Back Pages

Friday, December 14, 1917

Matthew was heading to Downton for the rest of his leave. He had spent four days in Paris with his mother, pining all the time for Mary, when his mother had finally told him to go. She also told him not to be foolish and to go ahead and stay at the Abbey. He was concerned that his mother would be alone over Christmas but she had assured him she and a friend were going down to Provence for two weeks.

It was only when he was on the cross channel ferry that Matthew remembered that Col. Flashman had mentioned that he was going to Provence for Christmas. No it couldn't be. Just a coincidence. But...but his mother knew Col. Flashman. This past June the colonel had given Matthew a ride to Paris one weekend and Matthew had introduced them to each other. The colonel had insisted on treating them to dinner and the three of them had a very good meal at a bistro the colonel knew. Thinking back it seemed that his mother had quite enjoyed the Colonel's stories of Africa. Since then Col. Flashman had gone to Paris almost every weekend. Hmm. Could they? No, it was just a coincidence...wasn't it?

He was also not happy with the circumstances of his forthcoming visit but it could not be helped. He tried to think of other things.

-0-

His last mission of 1917 had taken longer than anticipated. Some rear echelon personage had thought it would be an excellent idea to infiltrate into the German rear, tap into the main telegraph line to Berlin HQ and then radio what they learned back to their own HQ. How was left up to them.

Col. Flashman was all for parachuting Matthew and his squad behind enemy lines. It took Matthew and Silverfish the better part of three days to convince the Colonel what a desperately insane idea this was. They were only able to by having a Royal Flying Corps officer point out to the Colonel that the Allies did not have any aircraft big enough to transport the men and their equipment.

Equipment was the second major problem. A radio large enough to do what had to be done would require a lorry for transport and a generator to power it. There was no way they were going to be to drive a lorry through the German lines.

They had thought that was that, they could go home, early maybe, but no, Flashman came back from HQ with an alternate, slightly more sane, mission. Infiltrate the German rear and sabotage the main telegraph line. It was thought that this would interfere with the German defense of Cambrai. This they conceded could be done.

They reviewed scads of aerial reconnaissance photographs until they found an area where the German lines were not continuous but instead overlapped. It was miles out of their way but they thought they could sneak through. Then head across country to the telegraph line, cut it in several hard to repair locations and then cross back into British lines via the Escaut River.

The infiltration had gone smoothly. The Germans did not appear to patrol the areas deep behind their front tines. The French inhabitants of the countryside followed a strict policy of 'see nothing, hear nothing'. They were almost to the telegraph line when they stumbled on a small German supply convoy of four lorries stopped for a lunch break. Matthew was all for leaving it be and continuing on their way when Sparks approached him with a proposition.

"Begging your pardon sir but that second lorry is pulling a generator"

"And?"

"Telegraph lines only use a small amount of electricity to transmit messages. If we were to hook that generator to the telegraph line and start it up it would fry all the equipment along the line."

Matthew thought about it. It would certainly satisfy the objective of their mission. But ambushing that convoy would be like whacking a wasps' nest with a tennis racket. There would be more than a few Germans looking for them. Well in for a penny in for a pound. "OK everyone listen up. This is what we are going to do..."

They got a clean jump on the convoy. No shots were fired by either side, no one got shot or killed. Having no way to deal with prisoners Matthew sent them walking down the road, without weapons or their boots. He and his men ate the sausages their vanquished foes had been cooking up, very good sausages they were, and then they took off in the lorries headed west.

As soon as they could they turned north, towards their objective. After about half an hour of travel they stopped to look in the trucks and see what swag they had collected. One lorry contained uniforms and another contained boxes of paper forms. They syphoned the fuel out of these two lorries and topped up the tanks of the two they were keeping. The one pulling the generator contained heavy machine guns and ammunition plus four crates marked, as Marx translated for them, 'Machine Pistol 18. Test Model'. Inside each were four modified rifles with 32 bullet drum magazines. They were like smaller Lewis guns, lighter than their own Lee Enfield rifles. Matthew was impressed. Another triumph of German engineering. He handed them out. Test them they would. In the meantime he had four of the heavy machine guns assembled and then set up, two on each lorry, mounted fore and aft.

When they opened up the last lorry it was like Christmas morning at the Silverfish household, the one where Father Christmas brought absolutely everything on Silverfish's wish list plus a few things he hadn't even dared wish for. It was full of explosives.

Silverfish ran his hands over the crates. "You know, I've always wanted to blow up a train" he told Matthew.

"You know that's not part of our mission."

"But after we've taken care of the telegraph line, on our way back, if we happen to come across a train..."

"All other things being equal, and if you've been good... you can blow up a train"

Silverfish gave Matthew a big smile. Behind Silverfish Harper rolled his eyes.

-0-

The inevitable German pursuit caught up to them just as Sparks had climbed up a telegraph pole and was attaching the cable from the generator to the telegraph line. It was a squadron of cavalry; cuirassiers, dragoons, hussars, uhlans, Matthew couldn't tell the difference, something to do with the location of the braid on their uniforms he supposed. It seemed the German high command officered its cavalry in much the same way the British army did, with the incompetent sons of the aristocracy. Anyway the officer drew his sabre and commanded a charge at the two lorries. Apparently no one had told him the convoy he was looking for had been carrying a load of heavy machine guns.

Afterwards Harper went out and shot the wounded horses.

-0-

Silverfish stabbed the map with his finger. "See where this trestle crosses the Escaut? That's the perfect place to bag a train."

Matthew put his finger on another point on the map. "This is where we want to go. It is west of where we are. Your trestle is east of here. Do you see the problem?"

"The Germans are going to be looking for us heading west. They won't be looking for us to the east."

Matthew conceded he had a point. "But they will be once we bag your train. Then what? Do we keep heading east until we get to Russia?"

"No we steal a boat and head up the river, no one will be looking for us there."

"Except the owners of the boat"

-0-

They watched the train run off the trestle into the river. Silverfish had placed his explosives on one side of the trestle so when he blew them as the locomotive was passing over it tipped over and pulled the waggons behind it down into the river. Matthew had to admit there was a terrible beauty to it although perhaps not enough to justify the demented victory jig Silverfish was doing.

"OK, OK you've had your fun. Blow up the rest and let's get out of here."

Silverfish had placed the rest of the explosives at the approaches to the trestle. He set them off. He watched the smoke dissipate and then gave Matthew a woebegone look.

Matthew laughed. "That's what happens when you spend your shiny new pennies all at once."

-0-

The Germans had a patrol boat they ran up and down the river during the day. It had heavy machine guns mounted fore and aft. They watched it from under cover as they trudged upriver. They had abandoned and burned the lorries when they ran out of petrol. They been unable to find a boat large enough to accommodate the eighteen of them. And it was unlikely that any boat they did find would be able to stand up to that patrol boat. They couldn't use the roads and so their progress was painfully slow.

"Why don't we just steal the patrol boat from the Germans?" suggested Harper.

Silverfish and Matthew both stared at him like he had gone mad.

"Look. It must dock somewhere each night. We've never seen it at night. We'll raid their station in the middle of the night. It'll be easier than raiding a trench. I'm sure that they've never had anyone attack them."

-0-

And so it went. The German crew was caught sleeping, even their token guard was sleeping. Matthew had them locked in what looked to have been used in more peaceful times as some sort of secure warehouse. He hoped they wouldn't be able to escape and raise an alarm for at least twelve hours.

A problem arose with operation of the patrol boat. No one in the squad had ever operated a boat. Ridden on boats to be sure. Admired boats from the shores. Dreamed of running off to sea. Never actually ran a boat.

The patrol boat was powered by a steam engine. One of the Hard Men, Watt, had once spent a short stint as a fireman on a train and so he was appointed engineer. The very efficient Germans had coaled and watered their vessel before retiring for the night. They had also left a small fire going under the boiler so firing up wasn't a problem.

Steering was the problem. The boat steered like a boat and not an auto, which took some time for the miserable lot of landlubbers that they were to learn. Several times they almost beached it. Once they did a full three hundred and sixty degrees much to the amusement of an old man and a little boy standing on the riverbank doing a little early morning fishing.

It appeared the boat had been a French customs boat before it became a prize of war. Two French Tricolours were found in a locker and Matthew ordered that they be cut up and used to fashion an Union Jack. An hour later a recognizable facsimile was produced and it was ran up the flag staff.

-0-

Night fell and they were almost home free, almost across that invisible meridian dividing the river between the Germans and the British, when a Fokker Dr.I came up on their stern for a strafing run. Marx and Sparks were manning the rear machine gun and they managed to line up the aeroplane before it could line them up. It started trailing smoke and then it suddenly veered off and crashed on the right bank.

Amid all the whooping and hollering Harper yelled at Marx and Sparks. "Four more and you're aces"

-0-

Matthew had had enough. Time to go,

"Number Two! Set a course for home." Matthew commanded.

"Aye aye Sir" Silverfish saluted.

-0-

Matthew leaned against the railing at the bow of the ferry watching the white cliffs get closer.

He getting closer. Closer to home. Closer to her.

_A/N: Many thanks to everyone who voted for your scribe's stories in the Highclere Fan Awards. _

_And to those readers who nominated the two stories - in a year dominated by the Maggie Smiths of DA fanfiction your remembrance of the work of an old hack illustrates your remarkable generosity of spirit. May blessings forever fall upon your house._


	9. This Wheel Is On Fire

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by The Band is recommended._

This Wheel Is On Fire

Matthew smiled. His last military mission of 1917 had finished quite satisfactorily. The telegraph line had been sabotaged, and as bonuses a train had been destroyed, a patrol boat captured and a prototype of a machine pistol captured. All without a casualty, other than the Germans of course. Col. Flashman had promised promotions and gongs all around. Too bad it had been a secret mission or there would have been write ups in the newspapers.

Matthew hoped his last domestic mission of 1917 would be as successful. He turned his attention back to the interior of the railway compartment. Silverfish was dozing. Harper, Marx and Sparks were back in second class. He had offered to purchase them first class tickets but they had declined. Harper telling him 'with respect sir, it's more fun in second class'. When Matthew last saw them they were arguing about whether there would be prize money for the capture of the patrol boat. He was grateful that they had all agreed to give up a week of their leave to assist him.

He was going to put paid to Sir Richard Carlisle.

-0-

"You're going to kill him" Mary stared at Matthew.

"I didn't say that"

"You said he was going to die. That will only happen if you kill him."

"What are you saying? That otherwise he is immortal? People die all the time."

"So you're saying you're not going to kill him?"

"The fall is going to kill him."

"What fall?"

"Sir Richard is going to fall down some stairs."

"You don't always die falling down stairs."

"He'll keep falling down the stairs until he dies."

Mary stared at him. "Is that why you brought those men with you?"

"After the horrors of France I thought they would enjoy the cold clear air of Yorkshire. Anyway what's wrong with them?"

"They're ... they're like a pack of wolves and..." realization dawned on Mary "you're the leader of the pack"

Matthew scoffed. "You're being much too melodramatic. Silverfish a wolf? A Golden Retriever pup maybe. If he was worth a few, well a lot, more pounds your mother would be all for marrying your sister Sybil off to him. Don't worry about them, they'll be gone in a week"

Mary sighed. "I don't want you to kill Sir Richard."

"What? The man has kept you a prisoner here for the past year, blackened your name with those rumours he has spread and you want me to let him go Scot free?"

"No. I want him to suffer. I would rather that he be humiliated"

"How so?"

"Could you..." and Mary outlined what she would like done to Sir Richard. Matthew listened, only interrupting with a few questions.

When she had finished Matthew thought. It was doable. A kidnapping was more complicated then simply dragging him from his bed and dropping him over the railing to the floor below. They would be at risk three, maybe four, times longer. There would be a greater exposure to innocent bystanders. But it could be done.

"There's just one problem" he told her.

She raised an eyebrow "Oh?"

"After we do that to him he'll go crazy. He'll come after us."

"Then you can kill him."

Matthew stared at Mary. And he thought he was hard. He made a mental note to never, ever cross her.

-0-

The stables served as Matthew's headquarters. Harper, Marx and Sparks bunked there. There they could also avoid contact with any of officers/patients.

After tea Matthew, Robert and Silverfish met with Matthew's men. Lynch kept watch.

Robert was going to draw them a floor plan of the great house at Haxby Park. He was quite familiar with it as he spent a lot of time playing there with the Russell boys in his youth. But before he could start Harper had an announcement.

"Sir Richard has a spy on your staff your Lordship."

"What?" Robert was astonished.

Harper gestured at Marx and Sparks. "Tell him"

Marx did the talking. "We have a tap on Sir Richard's telephone line."

"A what?" asked Robert.

"We have a device that we hook up to a telephone line and eavesdrop on the conversations."

Robert sputtered. "You mean anyone can listen to my private telephone conversations?"

"Yes, if they have the right equipment." Marx waited to see if there were more questions, there being none he pulled out a piece of paper and continued. "At 3:27 this afternoon I took down the following conversation:

_'Male:Haxby Park_

_Female: Let me speak to Sir Richard_

_Male: Whom may I say is calling?_

_Female: Bessy_

_Long pause_

_Second Male: Yes Bessy_

_Female: Capt. Crawley at Downton Abbey. He is on leave until the end of January. He has brought four soldiers with him, one's a lieutenant and the other three look like hard cases._

_Second Male: Why have they come?_

_Female: I don't know._

_Second Male: Well find out. That's what I'm paying you for._

_Female: Look I'm just a lady's maid, I'm no Mata Hari._

_Second Male: (laughs) I could see where it would be difficult for you to seduce the information out of anyone._

_Female: You want information or not?_

_Second Male: Easy, easy. Find out what you can. A pound will go into your account in Ripon tomorrow._

_Connection broken'_

They all looked at Robert.

He started thinking out loud. "We don't have a Bessy on staff ...obviously an alias ... there are only two ladies maids..O'Brien and Anna ... It was either our telephone or the one at the post office in Downton ...I'll find out from Carson if either of them used our telephone ... or if they went into the village this afternoon .. then I'll discharge her without a reference"

Silverfish interrupted him "With respect your Lordship, if you could hold off firing her until after we're done with our mission we could use her to feed misinformation to Sir Richard."

"How do we do that?" asked Robert.

"Find out which one it is and we'll think of something" Matthew put in.

The rest of the meeting was taken up with production of the floor plan of Haxby Park.

-0-

It didn't take Robert long to find out that the spy was O'Brien. He had asked Carson to make enquiries, confidentially of course, and had been advised that Anna had been assisting Mrs. Hughes all afternoon and had had no opportunity to use the telephone. O'Brien on the other hand had the afternoon off and she had walked into Downton with Sgt. Barrow.

Now Robert had a bigger problem. How to tell his wife.

-0-

Cora stroked Robert's face. "Christmas came early to Downton this year."

Robert kissed her. Now was as good a time as any he thought. At least O'Brien wasn't hovering anywhere nearby. "I have something to show you"

"So soon? This is indeed a night of surprises."

"It's not what you think." Robert got out of bed, went to his dressing room, and retrieved the notes Marks had taken of the telephone conversation.. He handed it to Cora.

She read it twice. "It can't be. O'Brien is so loyal to ..."

"You maybe, not so much to Mary. Look she is probably how Sir Richard knew how Mary would be at Ripon that day he confronted her in the bookstore."

Cora sighed. "I'll send her on her way first thing in the morning."

"If you could hold off for awhile, we'd like to use her to feed some false information to Sir Richard. Just be careful what you say to her in the meantime."


	10. If You Gotta Go

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Mike Berryn is recommended._

If You Gotta Go

"I have a headache. I'll have Branson take me back to the Abbey."

Cora reached across and patted Mary on the knee. "You'll be OK. We'll be all around you."

Matthew squeezed Mary's hand. "We talked about this. We need the intelligence. Think of it a trench raid; only on this raid the enemy doesn't have guns. We walked through it. You can do it. We'll be all around you."

Mary squeezed his hand back. "I'll try"

Branson stopped the auto in front of Haxby Park. The Strallens' chauffeur pulled up right behind him.

-0-

Sir Richard was waiting for them at the door. He had been surprised when they had accepted his pro forma invitation. He had had to scramble to add eight more places to the dining table. He only had eyes for Mary. But there were four couples getting out of the autos. Which lady was her? Lord Grantham was approaching him, hand out stretched. He had to take it and then the old fool wouldn't let go. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the rest moving by him into the house. He found himself promising to give the Earl a tour of the house.

He was finally able to break free and lead the Earl into the house. He could see the ladies taking off their coats. He saw Mary and was going to go assist her with her coat when the Earl blocked his way. Damn old man.

"I don't know if you've ever met my son in law, Sir Anthony Strallen? He's a major with the Quartermaster Corps" and the Earl introduced them.

Sir Anthony would not let his hand go. He wanted to talk about agricultural mechanization of all things. Sir Richard could hear Lady Grantham saying something about the need to freshen up and then the ladies followed the butler out of the hall.

The Earl was not finished with his introductions.

There was Capt. Thomas Silverfish, an innocuous looking youth, who was escorting Lady Sybil that night. Then there was Maj. Matthew Crawley.

Mary's husband did not say anything as he shook Sir Richard's hand, he just stared at him. Sir Richard did not like the cold steady gaze of those blue eyes. There was no worry or fear or even curiosity. Indeed there was not even a hint of assessment or measurement. All there was conclusion. Sir Richard had encountered such finality once before. He had been a reporter during the Ripper's reign of terror and he had tried to interview a doctor who was one of the many suspects. The man had answered the knock of Richard, as he was then, regarded him thus and then closed the door in his face. He was convinced that that doctor was the killer but he had never pursued that conviction.

The Earl beamed at Sir Richard. "How about that tour now" and headed up the stairs.

Sir Richard had no choice but to follow the Earl. Majors Crawley and Strallen did also. Sir Richard did not notice that Lt. Silverfish did not.

-0-

Sir Richard had never lead a tour of hyperactive six year old boys through the British Museum. If he had he might have been able to control the Earl and his sons in law. But he had not and so he could not.

They ignored him. They opened every door. They turned every switch on and off, several times plunging the floor into darkness. In the new American bathrooms he had installed at great expense they turned on every faucet and flushed every toilet. Each time they left a bathroom he had to make sure that all the faucets were turned off.

Mary's husband adopted a most peculiar bouncing gait walking down the halls. When Sir Richard looked askance at him all Matthew said was "Testing for dry rot, there's a lot of it in these old houses."

When they came to an intersection of halls they would each go off down a different one. They would call to each other and eventually meet up at another intersection.

They ended up in Sir Richard's bedroom, the grandest in the house.

The Earl wasn't impressed. "A little small isn't it?"

Small? Sir Richard looked around. You could play royal tennis in the room..

"It's OK for a bachelor I suppose but I don't think you could accommodate a lady like Mary. Why where would she put her shoes?" Matthew put in. "Of course she wouldn't like this room anyway. She prefers an east facing room, she is an early morning person, she loves to have the rising sun wake her up."

Behind Sir Richard Robert smirked at the thought of his notoriously late rising daughter being awoken by the rising sun.

"What's this?" asked Matthew as he fingered a plaid cloth, obviously too narrow to be a blanket, draped over a chair.

"It is a great kilt in the Bruce tartan, the Carlises are a sept in the Bruce clan."

Matthew looked at Robert "Didn't our ancestors put the run on them back in '45?"

"Yes I believe they did" replied Robert "Was that the dinner gong I heard a while back? We should be going down. A most beautiful house Sir Richard" and Sir Anthony indicated his agreement.

Matthew said "Beautiful indeed, it would be shame if anything happened to it."

Sir Richard gave him a sharp glance but all he saw was Matthew's guileless all-senior-offiers-are-idiots-but-you-shouldn't-let-them-know-it face.

-0-

When they got downstairs they found that all the other guests were already seated. In fact they were just starting the second course.

Sir Richard was outraged but hid it as best he could. He motioned for his butler, Chamberlain, to come to him. "Why didn't the guests wait for me? After all I am the host, am I not?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry sir but I didn't know where you were. Lady Grantham said it was rude to abandon your guests and that if dinner wasn't served on time she was leaving."

Sir Richard choked back his angry retort and went into the dining room. Where he discovered the seating plan had been changed. Lady Mary was supposed to be seated immediately to his left while her husband was exiled to the extreme right end of the dining table. Maj. Crawley was just taking his seat, exactly where expected, right next to Lady Mary, who wasn't supposed to be there. Sir Richard looked to his own seat at the head of the table and saw that the Vicar's extremely dull and pious wife was seated where his love should be seated. The Strallens were seated immediately to his right.

Sir Richard took his seat and was immediately confronted by Lady Grantham.

"Well you finally grace us with your presence Sir Richard. I trust you have no objection to me acting as hostess in your prolonged absence and seeing to your guests."

Sir Richard choked back his retort. He could sense that she was looking for an excuse to be insulted so she could initiate a walkout of the whole Crawley clan. "Not at all. I can see that your charming daughter learned the art of the hostess from a master" and he saluted her with his glass of wine.

Throughout dinner Sir Richard tried to make eye contact with Mary but every time he looked to his right both of the Strallens took it as in invitation to engage him in a conversation about the necessity of agricultural mechanization.

-0-

When the ladies went through after dinner the gentlemen rearranged their seating and thus Sir Richard found himself directly across from Mary's husband. Everyone in the room knew of the rumours that Sir Richard had spread that he was the lover of Lady Mary. Those who did not know of the falsity of such rumours waited with keen anticipation the confrontation between the two men.

Sir Richard noticed that Matthew turned down the offered cigar. "What's the matter Crawley? Don't you smoke?"

"No, I don't, I find it adversely affects my wind. In my line of work you don't want to be wheezing when you sneak up on someone you are going to kill."

As Sir Richard heard those last six words he felt his adversary's cold blue eyes staring at him. He decided to change the subject "Are you looking forward to resuming the boring life of a country solicitor when the war is over?"

"I don't know if I can adapt. When a solicitor has an enemy he writes him a stiffly worded letter; when a soldier has an enemy he kills him." Mathew smiled at Sir Richard, a tiger's smile "I hope all my enemies are dead before I quit being a soldier, so I don't have to worry about killing them."

All this talk of killing was making Sir Richard feel distinctly chilly so he was about to ask Sir Anthony a question about agricultural mechanization and let that subject take over the conversation when Maj. Crawley asked him a question.

"Tell me Sir Richard, as a city man, born and bred, aren't you worried about how dangerous the countryside is?"

Sir Richard took the bait. "Dangerous? Not at all."

"Don't you worry about being so far away from a proper city hospital? If you had a heart attack or a breathing problem you would die before they could get you to proper medical attention."

"I am in excellent health, my physician tells me my heart and lungs are those of a much younger man. I make a point of walking each day..."

"But what if on one of your solitary walks you stumbled and fell into a pond, you would drown before anyone rescued you; or you got lost in the woods and died of exposure; or a stray bullet from a farmer shooting at some vermin caught you. Not to mention what could befall you if you took up riding. You should really reflect upon how dangerous it is for you here in Yorkshire."

"I don't ride" retorted Sir Richard.

"Don't forget fire" put in Lord Grantham "These old houses can go up like a Roman candle and there's no fire brigade handy to rescue you."

"And the roads here can be atrocious, specially in the winter. An accident while you're driving is what is likely to do you in" contributed Sir Anthony.

"Yes I can visualize it now Sir Richard." said Mary's husband " You are driving at night in freezing rain. You miss the corner by the old mill and you drive straight into the millpond. As you slip under the surface your last thought is 'why did I ever move to the country'. I am cursed with prescience. Sir Richard, I foretell that if you do not leave Yorkshire within the fortnight you will die here."

Sir Richard stood up. "I will not sit here and be threatened!"

Matthew also stood. "I have heard no threats sir." He looked around the room "Has anyone here heard any threats?" He waited, no one had. "All I have heard is friendly consideration for your welfare. But it is clear my comments have somehow played havoc with your conscience so I will leave." Robert, Sir Anthony and Thomas Silverfish also stood up. Matthew gave Sir Richard a curt nod "My compliments to your cook, the meal was excellent. On the other hand you may want to look to your wine cellar, the red tasted a little corky. Good night sir."

The four men left the dining room. Sir Richard sat down again and tried to converse with his remaining guests who seemed rather bemused by all that had transpired when he realized that if the Crawley men were leaving then Lady Mary was leaving also and he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her. He got up and rushed out into the hall.

He found the four men just leaving the house. There was no sign of the ladies. He turned to the Head Footman and asked "Where are the ladies?"

"They left as soon as dinner was over, they never did go through to the drawing room. One of the younger ladies was complaining that she was nauseated."

"Why wasn't I told they were leaving?"

"The Countess said not to bother you while you were enjoying your port and cigars"

-0-

On the ride back to Downton Abbey the four men, and Harper, who had been chatting up the kitchen staff, all jammed in the back of the Grantham limousine and discussed what they had learned.

The bulk of the staff were temporary, hired just for the dinner; the five permanent staff slept on the opposite side of the house from and a floor above Sir Richard's bedroom; there was no alarm system; there were no dogs; there was a disused side door with an ineffective lock; a back stairway well away from the servants' quarters, the floor boards did not creak; Sir Richard was in good health so use of chloroform shouldn't be a problem. Robert agreed to have Cora let it drop to O'Brien that something was likely to happen to Sir Richard when he was driving back to London on December 30th.

The plan came together.

-0-

When the men got back to the Abbey Matthew found that Mary had already gone to bed. He got ready and slipped into bed beside her. He expected she would want to talk but she lay with her back to him pretending to be asleep. He knew she was not, her body was too rigid. He reached out and started rubbing her neck.

Without turning around she spat out "Don't!"

He ignored her, He started massaging her shoulders and back.

"Don't ever make me do that again!" she was angry.

He did not say anything, he started on that spot between her shoulder blades that tended to knot.

She spun around. He was ready for her and he caught her in a hug. She tried to push him away but he kept tightening the hug, drawing her toward him. When she was finally snuggled right up to him, although she kept her body rigid, he said: "Did I let him touch you?"

She did not reply. They both knew the answer was no.

"Did I let him speak to you?'

She did not reply. They both knew the answer was no.

"You know we had to reconnoitre."

"So why did I have to go?"

"You were the bait"

"That's all I am to you? Bait?"

"Pretty much" he started nibbling on her neck and murmured "and now you've hooked me".

She struggled, trying to twist away from him. "Quit that! I'll scream."

"And what will you tell the posse when they arrive?" During her struggle he had managed to pull up her nightgown and he started fondling her bottom.

"I'm in no mood!"

"You will be"

"I will not!"

"Your body seems to think you are already"

"Why are you doing this?"

He rolled her over so he was resting on his elbows above her. "Because I love you. Because I don't want you ever to be bothered by that man again. Because I hate it when you are angry at me. Because I can't sleep if you reject me because then I think you don't love me." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She did not respond but she also did not turn her head away. "Good night" and he rolled off her, back to his side of the bed and laid with his back to her.

Still on her back she turned her head and looked at him. "That's it? Goodnight?" and she reached over and nudged him in the back with her hand. The only response was a suspiciously artificial snore. She sat up. "I do love you". She pulled off her nightgown and dropped it on his head. That got results.


	11. Everything Is Broken

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by R.L. Burnside is recommended._

Everything Is Broken

Saturday, December 22, 1917

Harper squirted a little oil into the lock mechanism then he slowly turned the knob. He opened the door an inch and then squirted some oil on the hinges. He then opened it the rest of the way. It did not creak. Harper stepped inside the great house of Haxby Park. He shook his head, for all the security there was they could have just walked through the front door. But Maj. Crawley wanted it it done as if they were knocking over a German HQ and who was he to argue, the major's methods had kept him alive so far. He listened carefully, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. He held up his electric torch in the doorway and gave the signal.

He was soon joined by Matthew, Silverfish, Sparks and Marx. Sparks was carrying a collapsible stretcher. They slowly made their way to the back stairs. Silverfish stayed at the foot with some of his so far unpatented whizzbangs ready to create a diversion if need be. The other four crept up the stairs, avoiding the middle of each tread.

Outside of Sir Richard's bedroom they listened. They heard a nice regular snore. Matthew opened the door and slipped inside. Sir Richard was thankfully alone in bed, a doxy would have complicated things. He motioned and Marx and Harper followed him into the bedroom. Sparks stood watch at the head of the stairs.

Marx took a small brown bottle, a cotton pad and some rubber gloves out of his bag. He put on the gloves and then poured some liquid out of the bottle onto the pad. The sweet smell of chloroform filled the room. On the bed Sir Richard twitched. Marx looked at Matthew who held up one finger, then two and when the third one went up Marx held the pad tightly over Sir Richard's nose and mouth. At the same time Matthew held down Sir Richard's arms and Harper his legs.

Sir Richard quit struggling. Marx counted to himself until he was satisfied enough time had passed. He removed the pad. Sir Richard did not move. Marx took his pulse, it was strong and he appeared to be breathing regularly.

Marx and Harper stripped Sir Richard out of his pyjamas. They then picked him up and placed him on the stretcher. Matthew threw the Bruce clan great kilt over him. Harper and Marx picked up the stretcher and left the bedroom.

Matthew opened the window a bit to help the smell of the chloroform dissipate. He shone his electric torch around the bedroom to see if they had forgotten anything. He noticed a photograph on the bedside table which looked to be of someone he knew. He went over and picked it up. It was of Mary. There was a photo album on the table as well. He opened it. It was full of photographs of Mary. He tucked the first photograph in the album and took it with him.

Once outside the raiding party made its way to the garage. Harper had established on the night of the dinner party that the chauffeur slept in the great house. The keys to Sir Richard's Rolls were hanging on a hook but they did not start the auto. A Rolls may be silent running but they did not want to take any chances so they bundled Sir Richard inside and then they pushed the Rolls down the drive until they were out of sight and earshot of the great house. They then got in and drove towards the village of Downton.

Half way to Downton they pulled over and took Sir Richard a ways into the woods. They laid him on the ground. Marx got out the chloroform in case Sir Richard started coming around. He didn't, not even when they poured the contents of two other bottles they had with them over him. They then rolled him back up in his great kilt, got him in the auto and resumed their journey to Downton.

-0-

Back in the stables at Downton Abbey they changed out of the gloves, clothes and boots they had worn on their mission. These were stuffed into two duffel bags along with the rest of the paraphernalia they had used. Marx and Sparks slung these over their shoulders. They were going to walk back into Downton and catch the milk train. Once they got back to London, the bags with some added ballast would go into the Thames.

Before they left Matthew gave them each an envelope. When they protested Matthew told them "It's from the Earl. Consider it a Christmas bonus. We all appreciate you giving up some of your leave to help. Now enjoy the rest of it and we'll see you back in France."

-0-

Mary was waiting up for Matthew. She was in her nightgown and robe curled up under a throw in the arm chair in their bedroom. She had a book open but she hadn't been able to read.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"No problems"

"Did you do..."

"Everything you suggested. You know it would have better to have just killed him."

"No, I want him to suffer."

"When he recovers he is going to seek revenge. He might even try to kill us."

"Then Perseus you can kill the sea monster" She noticed he had something under his arm. "What's that?"

"It's a photo album he had on his bedside table." Mary reached out her hands for it but he held it back. "I don't want you to touch it, you don't know where it's been. Come over here and look." He laid it on her vanity and opened it up for her.

"Are they all of me?"

"I just glanced through it but I think so. Where do you supposed he got them?"

"My guess would be my aunt."

"It would seem likely." Matthew opened the album to the page where he had put the larger photograph which had been separate. "He had this one out" When Mary reached towards it Matthew batted her hand. "Don't touch it! Look at that stain on it."

Mary recoiled. "No, it can't be..." She and Matthew had had a rather frank talk one night when she had asked him about how he could remain celibate in France and he had told her how pressure could be relieved.

"I don't even want to think about it" He closed the album "What do you want done with this?"

"I don't want to see it again. I'll have Anna throw it in the boiler's fire box tomorrow."

"No, I'll do it now. Then how about we get a few hours of sleep. We've got an interesting morning ahead of us."


	12. Desolation Row

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by My Chemical Romance is recommended._

Desolation Row

Sunday, December 23, 1917

The younger Crawleys walked to the church while Branson picked up the Dowager Countess in the estate auto.

When they got to the church they found a crowd clustered around the front door.

"What's going on?" asked Matthew.

"There's a half naked man in the church, drunk or mad or both." the Vicar, Travis, told them. "We've called for the constable to come over from Ripon. We're just waiting until he gets here."

"I don't think we have to wait that long." Matthew told the onlookers. "Harper. Go around the church and go in the back door."

Matthew walked up to the front of the church, waited for Harper to get to the back and then opened the front door. He stuck his head in and then hurriedly pulled it back. There was a thud against the door.

The door then flew open and a blue coloured man, naked except for a great kilt, came running out of the church, brandishing a candlestick. He ran right by Matthew.

It was Sir Richard. He ran down the church steps and the crowd parted for him. He had blue ink all over him in a rough harlequin pattern. He reeked of whiskey. He scanned the crowd. They stared back at him.

"Crawley where are you? I'm going to kill you!" he shouted.

Matthew walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "I'm right here."

Sir Richard spun around with the candlestick raised over his shoulder. Matthew grabbed Sir Richard's arm and flipped him over his shoulder. When Sir Richard tried to get up Matthew pushed him face first into the ground and pinned him there.

Matthew whispered into Sir Richard's ear. "They've called for the constable. If he takes you into custody you're going to end up in gaol or a lunatic asylum. Either way it's going to end up in the London newspapers. There is another way this could end, are you interested?" Sir Richard nodded so Matthew continued. "You will pay the church one hundred pounds to cover any damages you have caused; you will leave the whole Crawley family alone, you will not harass any of them in any way. and that includes publishing anything about them in any of your newspapers; you will immediately leave Yorkshire, never to return; and you will sell Haxby Park. If you agree to these terms and strictly honour them you will not be snatched from your bed in the middle of the night, which is a good thing because the next time that happens you will be hanged from the nearest oak tree. Lord Grantham will also take care of the constable. Word of this whole sorry incident may leak back to London but as long as the Crawleys don't provide confirmation you can plausibly deny it. Do you agree to these terms?" Sir Richard nodded. Matthew twisted his arm a little. "Say it out loud."

"I agree to the terms." Sir Richard grunted out.

"Good, now we are going to get up and walk to your Rolls. We will then drive you back to Haxby Park."

They got up and started walking towards the Rolls. Someone in the crowd, Matthew thought it was Silverfish, called out 'It looks like William Wallace is attacking south again'. This was followed by another catcall, Matthew was sure that it was Harper, that 'It's more like Wee Willy Wanker" There general guffaws at this. Under his coat of blue ink Sir Richard was choleric but he did not say anything.

Matthew looked at Mary. Her face was pale like she was going to faint. He raised his eyebrows at her. Did she want to confront Sir Richard? Last night she had wanted to tell him off and laugh in his face. But this morning? She shook her head. No. Good he thought, don't give the beast the satisfaction of having her notice him.

Matthew glanced at the crowd. The adults had all heard the false rumours Sir Richard had spread about Mary having an affair with him. They recognized Matthew's revenge for what it was.

-0-

As she watched Matthew leading Sir Richard to his Rolls Sarah started to sidle away. She did not want Sir Richard to spot her and say something to betray her.

"O'Brien! Or should I say Bessy?"

Sarah froze. She recognized Cora's voice, she did not like the edge to it. She turned around. Cora was standing there, so angry she was vibrating.

"Why did you betray us O'Brien? I thought we were friends" Cora asked.

"Friends!" Sarah spit on the ground. "You are nothing more than a spoiled old cow I work for. Sir Richard paid more."

"Do not bother going back to the Abbey. Your trunk and your final pay packet are waiting for you at the train station. There will be no letter of reference." With this Cora turned and walked away.

Sarah made an obscene gesture at Cora's back and then she started trudging to the train station. She badly needed a smoke. At least she had that fat little bank account waiting for her in Ripon.

-0-

Sir Richard sat in the Rolls facing forwards, Harper beside him. Matthew sat opposite. Branson drove and Sir Anthony's chauffeur followed in the Strallen limousine.

"You're not going to get away with this" growled Sir Richard.

"Get away with what? Rescuing you from the constable? I would think that you would be grateful."

"No court would enforce that agreement you extorted out of me."

"Court?" Matthew laughed. "You forget that I am no longer a solicitor." Matthew leaned forward and slapped Sir Richard on his bare knee. Sir Richard startled. "I am a killer now. I am very good at what I do. I can reach out and touch you whenever I want" and Matthew slapped Sir Richard's other knee. "You are a smart man. Go back to London, live your life there and let us country folk be." Matthew smiled at Sir Richard. "I know what you're thinking. That I'll get killed in the war and you'll come charging back at Mary. But you won't, because you'll be dead also. I've taken out a death policy on you. Within a week of my death one of my associates "here Harper gave Sir Richard a horse bite on his bare thigh "will collect one hundred pounds for killing you. So you had better pray for me. And you should know that we have people watching you so don't try anything. " Matthew paused to let that sink in "When we drop you off you may want to scrub those ink stains with some salt, I've heard that it can remove ink"

"I heard butter" put in Harper.

"Anyway I'm sure your valet or butler will think of something. Otherwise you're going to have to hide until it wears off. Put out word that you've suffered a bad attack of shingles or something, it shouldn't take more than two or three months before you're bright shiny pink again."

Sir Richard just sat there glaring at Matthew, not saying anything. He was considering all the ways he could get revenge, rapidly rejecting each one as it came up against the inevitability of the killer across from him. He did not say anything, he did not make a sound, until he was back in his bedroom and he noticed that his collection of photographs of his beloved Mary was gone.

Then he screamed.


	13. Ballad Of A Thin Man

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by James Solberg is recommended. A long song for a short chapter._

Ballad Of A Thin Man

Friday, January 18, 1918

The telephone rang. Sir Richard came instantly awake. The telephone on the bedside table was separate from the main telephone line into his mansion. This one was supposed to be only called by the night editor at his quality newspaper if something happened of the magnitude of the war ending or the king dying.

He turned on his light and looked at the clock, It was three in the morning.

He answered the telephone "Yes"

"Sir Richard Carlisle?"

This was not the night editor, who was it? Sir Richard answered "Yes it is. Who are you? What do you want?"

"Your butler, Chamberlain, is presently in the drunk tank at the Treacle Mine Road police station. You might want to go pick him up in a few hours, he's had a rough night. It seems he got drunk and disorderly. And at some point he managed to douse himself with a bottle of ink."

Sir Richard blanched. Half of him was still a faded hue of blue. He stared at the telephone. He had hired Chamberlain years ago straight out of the underworld. Over the years his connections on the other side of the law had proved most useful. Just this past evening he had sent him on a rather delicate mission. He had not been expecting a report until breakfast. What had gone wrong? "Are you a policeman?"

The man on the other end of the line laughed. "No, not at all, You might say I am a precursor to a policeman. I try to prevent crimes from occurring. It seems your man Chamberlain was trying to hire individuals from the more unsavoury levels of our society to carry out certain, shall we say, wet work in the north. Yorkshire to be more specific. He has been chastised. Now the question arises: what to do about you? You are in breach of your agreement Sir Richard. You must be punished."

Sir Richard started to panic. "No, no... it wasn't that, it was for something else entirely.. an union matter...please.. I won't.."

There was a sigh at the other end. "Unlike my friends to the north I am a forgiving man. I'll tell you what, I'm going to let you off this time with a warning. Don't do anything like this again. You will not get another chance. Oh and you had better donate a hundred pounds to your local fire brigade."

Sir Richard had to ask "Why the fire brigade?"

"Oh, didn't I mention it? Your house is on fire." and then other party rang off.

Sir Richard hung up the telephone and then he sniffed. He could smell smoke.

-0-

Col. Flashman looked at the telephone and shook his head. Isobel had told him about Sir Richard's actions against Matthew's wife. Harper had told him about they had done to Sir Richard in Yorkshire. The only conclusion he could come to was that Matthew had gone about it all wrong. He should have killed that bounder Carlisle when he had the chance. Now they were going to have to play defence. Still the telephone call and fire should buy them some time.

Thinking about the fire reminded him, first thing in the morning he had to post the letters to the various newspapers wherein the previously unknown, if the truth be known nonexistent, 'County Kilburn Soviet' was going to take credit for setting the fire, which it would proclaim was retribution for the harsh anti-Irish editorial polices of the Carlisle newspapers. That should give the police something to think about. He wondered if Sir Richard had good fire insurance.


	14. All Around the Watch Tower

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Jimi Hendrix is recommended_

All Around the Watch Tower

Friday, August 23, 1918

A lot happened that bright sunny summer day.

-0-

Robert was able to sell the last of his shares in the Canadian Northern Railway. He had been selling off those shares steadily since Matthew had confronted him back in 1916. Overall he had lost slightly more than fifty percent of his investment. Which was better than all of it. They would have to economize but they shouldn't have to sell anything off.

-0-

Sir Richard closed the file he had been reading and laid it on his desk. He had found the perfect instrument to carry out his revenge. He smiled to himself and poured a drink to celebrate.

He had come to terms with the fact that Lady Mary was never going to be his.

Fine. So be it. But if she was never going to be his then he would damn well ensure that she was spoilt for that husband of hers. And if they ever found out that he was behind it and he was killed, well he would die a happy man for by then Lady Mary would be well and truly wrecked.

He cackled.

-0-

Mary had tea with her mother and grandmother. She wanted to broach a rather delicate subject but she was making rather heavy work of it, beating back and forth, when finally Violet could take no more.

"Spit it out girl, what are you trying to say?"

Mary sighed. "I wonder if I am barren.".

"What makes you think that?" asked Cora.

"Well nine moths after Sir Anthony has a long leave Edith has another child. This one will be the second in two years."

Violet reached over and patted Mary's hand. "They're just trying to get all that out of the way before Sit Anthony runs out of..."Violet's voice trailed off as she realized Cora and Mary were staring at her with anticipation "Anyway you and Matthew have lots of time."

"But we've done it so many time you'd think one would have taken"

"Goodness" said Cora "if your father and I had produced a baby every time we did it we would have had..." and her voice trailed off as she realized the other two were waiting for a number. "Anyway, wait until the war is over and the two of you have a chance to be together permanently without that anxiety hanging over you. Your father's friend Freddie at the War Office says the Germans are crumbling and this might finally be the end."

Mary sighed again "They're always saying that but it never is."

-0-

Matthew and his band of merry hard men were trying to get through the rubble of the city of Albert so they could catch up to the retreating Germans. Col. Flashman, and by extension, HQ, wanted to know if this retreat was merely tactical or if it was going to cascade into the big one, the retreat that took the German army all the way back to Berlin.

-0-

The German gunnery sergeant pulled the lanyard on the Feldkanone i.R. and fired off the last shell. The recoil hadn't even died down when he started barking orders at his men to start breaking down the gun so it could be 'tactically repositioned' further east. At this point in the war the sergeant was happy to be heading east. He was beginning to think he might just survive the war with only a little deafness to show for it, knock on wood, as long as the British counter battery artillery fire didn't get him first..

-0-

The artillery projectile arched towards the city of Albert eighteen kilometres away.

In itself it bore no animosity, just thirty kilograms of high explosive in a fourteen kilogram steel casing.

As it followed the laws of physics it whistled.

-0-

Mary dropped her tea cup.

It shattered on the floor.


	15. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Friday, August 23, 1918, continued

Matthew lay on his back.

The pain was like the surface of the ocean in a storm. It was always there, rising and falling, and every few seconds a wave would start at his middle and sweep towards his head threatening to engulf him.

Between the crests of pain Matthew realized that he could feel nothing below his waist.

He blinked his eyes and there was Harper bent over him. "How is Marx?" he asked Harper.

"He's OK, a little woozy, he got his bell rung, but he's OK. That shell hole you pushed him into did the trick."

"I can't feel my legs"

Which is not surprising considering you've got a bloody waggon wheel stuck across your arse thought Harper. "They're still there. There doesn't appear to be lot of blood. Nothing to worry about, we'll get you to an aid station. I'm sure..."

"I'm paralysed aren't I? Give me my revolver" Matthew ordered.

"I can't do that"

Matthew gasped, that last wave was pretty high. "What do you mean you can't? You promised. I order you to give me my revolver."

"I'm sorry but I promised your lady that I wouldn't"

"Look you bog trotting Mick ..."

"Now, now sir, save your endearments for your loved ones. I can see the stretcher bearers coming" Harper was frantically waving to them "just hang on"

Matthew reached into his coat pocket and squeezed the little dog Mary had given him. With his other hand he clutched Harper's arm "Tell Mary I love her. My mother too. Make sure you kill that bastard Carlisle and.."

The crests of two waves of pain met and submerged Matthew into darkness.


	16. A Hard Rain's A Gonna Fall

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Jason Mraz is recommended. _

A Hard Rain's A Gonna Fall

Col. Flashman waited four days before he told Isobel. He wanted to see if Matthew lived or died; he did not want to have to give her bad news twice. This delay earned him a royal chewing out the likes of which he hadn't received since his earliest days as a private soldier.

Then they couldn't find Matthew. Col. Flashman had last seen him at a Casualty Clearing Station but by the time he escorted Isobel to it, or at least where it had been two days previous, he discovered that it had moved forward with the front lines. He knew the CCS would have sent Matthew back to a General Hospital, it being obvious even to him that there was no chance Matthew could be patched up and sent back to the line, But which one? With the military situation being so fluid he had no time to help track Matthew down so he had to leave Isobel to do it herself. They did not part on good terms.

Isobel toured the General Hospitals for a week before she discovered that Matthew had been sent on a hospital ship back to England. No one in France knew which hospital he would be send to once he got there.

She went back to her quarters in Paris to pack a suitcase so she could head to England. There she found a telegram from Mary waiting for her. Matthew was in Downton. She cabled Mary back, she was coming.

-0-

It started to rain as Isobel's train left London. The chill damp suited her mood. She was worried. Her baby had been wounded and she was not with him, caring for him. She was worried about how badly hurt he was. She knew what sending him back to England meant, the army had written him off, he would not fight again. She was worried about infection, would his nurses keep him clean and free of germs, she knew how overworked they were. She worried that he was not getting enough nutrition, when he was ill as a boy he was a very picky eater, and what was he now but just a bigger boy? And most of all she worried about what Sgt. Harper had told her about Matthew's legs. The war had turned her kitten into a tiger and what happened to tigers who couldn't prowl anymore? She worried.

-0-

After interminable delays Isobel's train finally pulled into Downton station. It was still raining. Isobel decided she would walk to the Grantham Arms first, check in and then go to the hospital. She got her suitcase and stepped down out of the carriage.

Where she met Cora.

"Your ladyship" Isobel gave Cora a slight nod as she went to move past her, presumably she was meeting someone else.

Cora put her hand out. "Cousin Isobel, please let Branson take your bag."

"I'm just heading to the Grantham Arms, it is not that far..."

"You are staying at the Abbey" said Cora in a tone that indicated there was no question that she was.

Isobel looked around the station platform. No one else was there whom Cora could be meeting. "You were waiting for me?"

"Yes" Cora said as she motioned towards the exit.

"But how did you know I was coming?"

"Mary told me you were coming."

"But she didn't know what train I would be on"

Cora shrugged "There are only so many trains which stop in Downton"

Once they were in the auto Cora asked if Isobel wanted to go back to the Abbey first to freshen up or straight to the hospital. Isobel decided the hospital would be best, she had to know how Matthew was.

Then Cora surprised Isobel.

"You were right about the rota for the staff at the convalescent hospital. We've changed to the one you recommended."

Isobel nodded. As apologies went it was enough. The operation of the convalescent hospital didn't concern her that much anymore.

-0-

At the hospital Isobel ran into Dr. Clarkson before she found Matthew's bed.

"Mrs. Crawley" Richard gave her a hopeful smile.

"Major Clarkson. How is he?" Isobel was abrupt, she had no desire, or time, to play 'what might have been'.

Dr. Clarkson's smile faded. "He sustained a blunt force injury to his lower back. He suffers from lower body paralysis. X-rays do not show any broken vertebrae but it is still possible that his spinal cord may have been severed. Lord Grantham brought up a specialist from London whose opinion is that the paralysis may be temporary, caused by inflammation and bruising. He prescribed Aspirin for the inflammation. Morphine is being administered for the pain although your son refuses to take as much as perhaps he should. Your son's mental state concerns me. He believes his paralysis is permanent and he appears to have given up."

"What do you mean given up?

"You will see for yourself. He is acting like a terminal patient who has passed through all the anger and denial and praying and is resigned to dying. Only he isn't dying. We anticipate that we will have him in a wheelchair and moved over to the convalescent hospital within the week."

Is that what injured tigers do, lay down and wait for the end? Isobel sighed. "Thank you Doctor. Now if you could show me to his bed."

-0-

Isobel stood at the entrance to the ward watching Matthew. He was sitting up and Mary was sitting with him. Mary appeared to be reading to him. Isobel watched his face as she approached and his expression never changed, he just stared ahead. When she finally arrived at the foot of the bed he saw her. He did not smile he just said:

"Hello Mother"

Mary stood up. "Cousin Isobel! How good to see you. Well I'll leave you two..."

Isobel was shocked by Mary's appearance, she did not look like she had slept in days. Mary made a move to leave but Isobel intercepted her and gave her a hug. "You're going to have to start calling me 'Mother Isobel' at some point. Now I want you to sit back down and tell me about your routine so I can spell you while you get some sleep." Mary started to protest but did sit down.

Isobel pulled up a chair and sat on the opposite side of the bed. As Mary went through Matthew's and her schedule Isobel held Matthew's hand with her left while with her right she moved his hair out of his eyes and then stroked his cheek. He was in pain, she could tell by the tenseness of his muscles, the sweat on his forehead. He just stared ahead.

Sybil came and greeted Isobel and promised to call Branson to come pick up Mary. Isobel made Mary promise not to come back for at least twenty four hours.

Isobel fed Matthew, although he did not eat that much; tried to converse with him, although he only offered one word answers to her questions. She started to get fed up. His refusal to take a dose of morphine set her off.

She stood and dragged the privacy screen in place. She then sat down and in a low voice, not quite a whisper she scolded him.

"You've had enough time feeling sorry for yourself. It's time for you to get up and walk it off."

Matthew snorted. "Maybe you hadn't noticed Mother that I'm paralysed!" he spat out.

"So you're going to just give up? If the rest of the army is like you I'm surprised you didn't all get pushed into the Channel back in '14. Look your paralysis is temporary. Your back is not broken. When the inflammation and bruising goes away you will be back walking." Isobel knew she was stretching the truth but he needed some hope, if it turned out his condition was permanent, well, she would jump off that bridge when she came to it. "In the meantime you are killing your wife, she looks worse than you do. I bet she hasn't had any sleep since you got here."

"She'd be better off without me."

Before she could stop herself, he was a grown man, an army major, Isobel grabbed his ear and gave his head a shake. "Well she is stuck with you and you had better make the best of it. You are her life. You saved her from dishonour and then you saved her from death. You made vows to her and you're going to stop being so selfish and honour those vows. You're also going to take that morphine so you sleep through the night. You're not going to wreck my night the way you've been wrecking hers."

Matthew pouted but he did not resist when Sybil gave him the shot.

-0-

Isobel could not sleep. She watched Matthew. His sleep was fitful, his arms and hands twitched, sadly not his feet or legs. He murmured things. She could not understand what he was saying although she was sure she heard the name 'Mary" more then once.

She looked at the books on the bed table. A Sherlock Holmes, a Father Brown and a book of childrens' verse by a Eugene Field, with whom she was not familiar. How curious. The book had a page bookmarked with a ribbon. She read the poem and smiled

_So shut your eyes while mother sings_

_Of wonderful sights that be, _

_And you shall see the beautiful things_

_As you rock in the misty sea,_

_Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:_

_Wynken, Blynken and Nod._

It had been so long since she had sang to him. She started to hum a wordless lullaby.


	17. Idiot Wind

_A/N: the version of the title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

Idiot Wind

Matthew opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow.

His mother was staring at him. "Well?" she asked.

"What no good morning? No how are you? Glad to see you?" Matthew tried to josh her.

She would have none of it. "Am I going to have to treat you like a spoiled four year old brat and embarrass you in front of your fellow officers or are you going to act like a man and do the right thing?"

"I ..ah" he closed his eyes and could still feel the glare of her eyes. "What do you consider the right thing?"

"Harry tells me..."

"Harry?"

She waived off his interruption "tells me that what impressed him most about you was your grace under pressure. You kept calm, kept your focus, got your mission done with a minimum of fuss and loss and your men loved you for it. Well your mission now is to make the best of your situation. You will act with grace, particularly towards Mary. You love her and you will let her know it. You will not let your anxiety make her more anxious than she already is. Can you do that?"

"Yes"

"Say it with a smile"

"Yes General Mother ma'am" he laughed and she laughed with him.

"Good I knew you could. Now I'm not going to baby you the way she has been. I'll hold the mirror and you can shave yourself."

-0-

Mary was back in just under twenty hours. When Isobel went to scold her she held up her hands "I slept the clock around, had a nice long bath, ate well – I just couldn't stay away"

"Well I must say you do looked more rested. Matthew has something he wants to say you. Go sit with him and I'll pull the privacy screen over."

-0-

Mary pulled up a chair beside his bed. Matthew smiled at her and she felt her own smile in response would crack her face it felt so large. It was the first time he had smiled at her since he had been brought to the hospital.

He looked to make sure the screen kept them from the gaze of others in the ward and patted the bed beside him. "Come sit here."

She gave him a quizzical look but complied. As soon as she had sat down he pulled her into a hug, Then he kissed her and hugged her again.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long, long time." He breathed in her scent "Is that?" He could feel her nod. "I am sorry for how I've been treating you. I've been pushing you away, freezing you out. I love you so much. I've been afraid of dragging you down into the blackness with me. I don't want to wreck your life being stuck with a cripple. But I want you so much because I can't live without you."

She drew back his embrace and looked at him. Tears were going down both of their cheeks. She tried to smile.

"It's too late to back out now, you're stuck with me. As for wrecking my life I've already had to wipe your bottom so I don't see how it can get much worse."

He chuckled and touched his forehead to hers. "I love you"

"I love you"

He lay back and she lay on his chest.

-0-

Isobel gave them an hour and then coughed discretely on the other side of the screen. She counted to twenty and then went behind the screen.

Mary was sitting on the chair in a very demure manner undermined by her flushed complexion, her mussed hair and the top three buttons on her blouse being unbuttoned. Isobel played with the buttons on her own blouse until Mary got the message and did them up.

"And how are things going?" asked Isobel with a smile.

"Matthew is going to apply to be transferred to the convalescent hospital." Mary told her.

"And we are going to start on the leg exercises the specialist recommended. " added Matthew.

We? It looked to Isobel that the old Matthew was back. Good. "Mary why don't you come with me and we'll track down Dr. Clarkson and get the paperwork started."

Mary got up and the two of them moved the screen out of the way and then they headed out of the ward.

As soon as they left someone at the far end of the ward called out "Crawley if you can't service that pretty little wife of yours I would be happy to oblige."

Matthew blinked. He turned his head and asked the patient in the bed next to him "What's your name?"

"Jones sir. Capt. Lawrence Jones."

"What is the name of the man who just made that remark about my wife?"

"Heep. Capt. Heep. He's a little touched in the head."

"Has he said things like that before?"

"Pretty much every day."

"And what have I done?"

"Well you've been..ah...out of it, sir"

"Has my wife heard him?"

"I.. think so. I've seen her flush when he's said stuff like that but she just ignores him."

"It cannot go on"

"No sir"

"Hand me your piss jug Jones"

"It's half full sir"

"All the better"

Jones handed Matthew the piss jug. He balanced it carefully and then threw it across the ward. It landed on the end of Heep's bed and sprayed its contents over Heep. Heep started screaming.

Jones watched this happen and then looked back to Matthew's bed. It was empty. He heard muffled thuds on the floor. He leaned over the edge of his bed and saw Matthew sliding across the floor, pulling himself with his arms, heading towards Heep's bed. He had a pair of scissors in his right hand.

Heep could see this also and he stood up at the head of his bed. He continued shrieking.

Mary, Isobel, Dr. Clarkson and a nurse came running into the ward. They watched Matthew slithering down the floor towards Heep. Mary stepped in front of him and he tried to slide around her. She moved to block him again and he stopped.

Matthew looked up. His wife and his mother were giving him identical looks. They were not what he would characterize as friendly, indulgent looks. He dropped his head onto his arms.

Dr. Clarkson looked down at him. "I think it would be best if Maj. Crawley is transferred to the convalescent hospital forthwith."


	18. I'd Have You Anytime

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Evan Rachel Wood is recommended_

I'd Have You Anytime

Matthew was not transferred to the convalescent hospital.

Instead he was sent on convalescent leave. This allowed him to live with the family in their part of the Abbey.

Bates pushed Matthew in his new wheelchair down a hall on the main floor, a hall Matthew did not remember ever going down before. They were following Mary. She stopped at a door but instead of opening it she told Bates she could take it from there and that they would ring for him when he was needed. He nodded at her and left.

When Bates was out of sight she opened the door and then pushed Matthew's wheelchair through.

The room they entered was large. Matthew recognized the furniture, it was from Mary's bedroom upstairs. The only thing of his that he recognized was his army footlocker. Mary told him it had been shipped to Downton Abbey by Col. Flashman.

Mary pushed the chair so he could see there was an adjoining bathroom and dressing room.

Mary explained "This was a suite used by Grannie's mother when she got..."

"Old and decrepit" Matthew finished for her "it will do nicely for someone younger and probably more decrepit." He tilted his head at her. "Why is your furniture in here? And why did you send Bates away?"

Mary did not answer. Instead she went over and locked the bedroom door. She then pushed Matthew over to the side of the bed, the side without an adjacent night table. Then she answered:

"Because I want to sleep with you."

Matthew stared at her "You know I'm...that means I can't..."

"I thought the army taught you how to improvise. Now grab onto the bed post and pull yourself up and I'll help swing you over onto the bed."

After much grunting and pushing and a muffled curse, not from Matthew, he was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard.

"Maybe next time Bates can help" he suggested.

"Yes, when it's your bedtime" Mary agreed "but not in the middle of the afternoon when your wife wants to have her way with you."

"And the when is right now?"

"Yes" she started to take off her blouse.

"You couldn't wait until after dinner?"

"I've wanted to hold you against my body ever since they brought you to Downton but somehow I didn't think the privacy screen would live up to its name." She took off her skirt.

Matthew took off his jacket and tie. He started undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Do the bathroom and dressing room have doors onto the hall? And are they locked?"

She pointed at him "Good point" and she went to make sure no one could come in that way.

When she came back she was naked. She got on the bed and helped him get the rest of his clothes off. Then she straddled him.

She took his head in her hands and kissed him. "Now I've got some ideas..."

-0-

"I didn't think it could do that"

"So we've got a gun but it won't fire"

"It's a start. Maybe we could ask..."

"Who? Dr. Clarkson?"

"That specialist is supposed to see you again in three months."

"Well I guess we'll find out how specialized his knowledge is. In the meantime..."

"We'll experiment."


	19. Honey, Just Allow Me One More Chance

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

Honey, Just Allow Me One More Chance

Matthew stared at the contraption. Now he knew why Mary had him dressed him in a singlet and rowing shorts. From the smell of moth balls they must have been stored in some trunk for decades. In addition to smelling they itched.

"You know I can't pedal" he told Mary.

"Don't be silly. It pedals for you. Now come and get on it."

Bates lifted Matthew out of his wheelchair and placed him on the seat of the machine. The seat was adjustable, sliding back and forth on a rail; it also reclined. Bates strapped Matthew's feet into the bicycle pedals. He then slid the seat back and forth until it was positioned to Mary's satisfaction. Neither of them asked Matthew's opinion.

The pedals were attached to cranks which were attached to a large bicycle gear. A chain went from the gear to a small electric motor.

"I'm not sure about this." Matthew looked around. Maybe someone would come along and rescue him.

"Matthew we talked about this and you agreed." Mary scolded "We have to maintain muscle tone in your legs so you won't have any problems when you can walk again."

"But is this machine the best..."

Mary interrupted. "The electric motor will turn the gear which will in turn make your legs move. That's the theory anyway"

Matthew seized on this "Theory? You mean I'm some kind of a guinea pig? I'm not sure..."

Mary ignored him and started the electric motor. The bicycle gear started to revolve slowly and Matthew's legs started moving like pistons. Matthew stared at them fascinated. Without any conscious thought his legs were moving.

Mary was timing the session with a stop watch. "We'll only do five minutes at first"

Matthew smiled at her "What this 'we' business? Are you going to take a turn also?"

Again she ignored him. As they were approaching the five minute mark she asked if he could feel anything.

"Not in my legs but I seem to be getting short of breath"

"Yes the manual said you might. Your legs are acting like pistons pumping blood through your heart and lungs. We won't do too much the first day" She made a note on a pad she had on a clipboard.

Matthew gazed fondly at her. She was taking this much too seriously, like she thought there was a real chance he would walk again.

-0-

Their days fell into an easy rhythm. Sleep in, a morning session on the rackicycle as Matthew took to calling it; lunch, a physiotherapy session at the convalescent hospital, on the increasingly fewer nice autumn days Mary would push him about the grounds. On bad weather days Matthew would play cards or games with the patients. Occasionally Matthew would spend time going over the estate's books with Robert. After dinner Matthew and Mary would read to each other. They never talked about the war. In bed they did those things their experiments had discovered worked best.

One particularly dreary afternoon Matthew was playing Hearts with three other wheelchair bound patients when one of them remarked that if you looked at a wheelchair back to front it looked like a chariot. As a special treat the patients, staff and Crawleys had been shown the film 'Ben Hur' the previous night. The chariot race had been quite spectacular.

Someone, and Matthew, under intense interrogation by his wife after the fact, had not denied it was him, had said that it was 'too bad you can't race them'. Then someone else had said 'why not'. And before you knew it furniture was being moved, carpets rolled up, and a rough oval course laid out in the Library. Coloured cloths were tied around the participants' arms, Matthew was blue.

Six chariots were lined up Factions in the crowd of patients were trading catcalls about the merits of their respective champions. A betting book was opened. Odds were chalked on a blackboard. Blue was listed at three to one. Red was favoured at two to one. Sybil was about to drop a handkerchief to start the race, five laps around the course, when the main doors opened. There stood Robert, Violet and Mary. The room was suddenly silent.

Violet surveyed the scene, nodded to Matthew and then sat herself down in an armchair with a good view of the course. She considered the blackboard and the racers and then told the bookie "one shilling on Blue". Behind her Robert rolled his eyes. Mary was glaring at Matthew but he was looking everywhere but at her.

Sybil looked at her father. The Earl nodded his head and she dropped the handkerchief.

The race started. The racers got off cleanly but mayhem ensued at the first corner. No one had practised turning at speed and so there was much backing and filling. Spectators righted those who fell over and generally kept the racers from going off course. By the last lap there had been four retirements, three mechanical and one due to a persistent nose bleed.

Heading into the last corner it was Blue and Red neck and neck. It looked like it would be Red by a nose when suddenly Red veered off the course. It seemed the spokes of his outside wheel had become entangled with a cane, an old lady's cane.

Matthew had just raised his arms in the traditional winner's stance when there was a roar, a roar tinged with a Scottish burr. It was from Major Clarkson:

"What is the meaning of this?"


	20. Shelter From The Storm

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Ed Roland and The Sweet Tea Project is recommended._

Shelter From The Storm

November 11, 1918

The Day of the Armistice came. It was a bad day for Matthew. After the short service at 11:00 a.m. he refused to attend the luncheon Robert held for the patients of the hospital. He told Mary she could go to the lunch but she refused.

They got bundled up and they went outside in the cold fresh air. He had her push him to their special bench. He didn't say anything, he just stared off into the distance, at something a thousand miles away.

Finally she asked "Do you want to talk about it?" thinking he would refuse.

After a long pause he said "When I came back to Downton after my ...ah...injury I was surrounded by blackness. All around me was death and it was calling to me. You started caring for me and the light that is your love for me started pushing the blackness back. It was slow going because I thought you were acting out of duty and not love and so I fought the light. I know you thought nothing was happening but you were winning. Then my mother came and you thought she snapped me out of it. She helped but you would have done it by yourself in another week. Since then your love has kept the blackness back." He squeezed her hand then let it go.

He continued "Until today. Today the blackness is trying to come back. The war is not over for me, nor is it over for those poor bastards " he waved his hand towards the Abbey and the soldier patients. "It's over for you and your family and all civilians. It's over for those soldiers over there who climbed out of their trenches today. You all can go about your daily business and gradually it will become a memory for you, fading away over time. But it's not over for me, not while I have to turn these wheels."

Matthew was quiet for another long while. Mary did not know what to say, what she could say.

Matthew started speaking again.

"You know I was there at the start of the war but not at the end; I'm not a real soldier any more, I'm a casualty of the war. And I'm not a real husband anymore, I'm a casualty of marriage too." She started to object but he held up his hand to forestall her. "Don't worry, the blackness won't win, not today. I'm not saying good-bye. It's just that today is such a watershed. For the rest of you it's going to get better from now on; for me "and he gestured at his legs "this is going to be as good as it gets. I can see my whole life ahead of me – confined to the Abbey because travel is so difficult; doing the estate's books because there is nothing else I can do; supported by a faithful and loving wife, who is unfulfilled because I can't give her children; getting old and cranky; probably drinking too much because that is all I can do. I tell you it's bloody depressing"

Matthew held his hand out to Mary and when she took it he pulled her to him and sat her on his lap. He whispered in her ear "I love you so and I am grateful every day for everything you do for me. I'm so lucky to have you and I don't want to hurt you. But sometimes it gets to be too much, when I think about all I've...we've lost and I have to take a moment and feel sorry for myself. But remember the old song" and he sang softly:

_I am hurt but I am not slain,_

_I'll lay me down and bleed awhile,_

_Then I'll rise and fight again._

"Let me bleed today and I'll pedal your infernal machine tomorrow." and he kissed her.


	21. All The Tired Horses

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

All The Tired Horses

Friday, February 14, 1919

Matthew and Robert were eating breakfast and reading the morning newspapers. They were the only ones at breakfast. It was a quiet time, the only sounds being the clinking of cutlery and the rustling of paper. The Great House was at peace, the last vestiges of the convalescent hospital having vanished the day before.

"It says here the army is going to auction off its horses in France" Matthew mentioned.

"It makes sense" mused Robert "it costs a lot per day to keep a horse and the cost of bringing them back to England would likely be more then what they would fetch at auction. Dump that many horses on the market all at once and the price will crash. I wager a lot of them will end up on the plates of Parisians."

They both read on for awhile then Matthew asked "Do you think Diamond survived the war?"

"Mary's horse? He was a beautiful horse...he would have been snatched up by an officer... if he didn't get caught up in one of those damn fool charges there's a chance he did."

"What if we were to put an advertisement in whatever newspapers French horse dealers read offering say twenty pounds for Diamond. We'd have to describe him sufficiently and I imagine we'd still get a bunch of false leads..."

Robert looked at Matthew and grinned. "Diamond has a tattoo."

"A tattoo?"

"Yes, inside his lip. It's seven digits long, numerals and letters. Lynch will have it recorded in his stable book. In the advertisement we could give the first two and last two digits. Anyone who answers the ad with the correct middle three digits has Diamond...Now you know if you offer twenty pounds you'll end up paying fifty. I assume you don't want Mary to know" Matthew nodded and Robert continued "Then we'll use Murray's address for the ad. If we get a response Lynch and I will sneak out of here on some pretext and go pick Diamond up."

Robert got up to help himself to some more kedgeree. As he passed Matthew he patted him on the shoulder. "If you pull this off it'll go down in the family history as the most romantic feat ever accomplished by a member of the House of Grantham."

-0-

As it turned out it cost the equivalent of sixty two pounds twelve shillings in francs to buy back Diamond.

The Earl told the truth. He said he and Lynch were going away for a few days on a horse buying trip.

On the day Diamond arrived back at Downton Abbey almost the whole house was in on the conspiracy to surprise Mary.

Robert telephoned Carson from Downton. Carson gave the signal to Anna . Anna lured Mary to the back of the house on an inconsequential matter. The staff lined up on the driveway for the grand welcoming.

Cora rushed into the room where Anna and Mary were. "Mary! We've been looking all over for you! You know we're supposed to be greeting an old friend of the family out front. Come on!" Mary tried to protest that she had to freshen up. Cora brushed aside her objections "There's no time for that! You look fine! Come on!" Cora grabbed Mary's arm and pulled; Anna pushed her.

They scurried through the lesser halls until they finally arrived in the Great Hall. Carson was standing at the front door. He held up a finger as if instructing them to compose themselves. They did so and then Cora did something that puzzled Mary. She positioned Mary in the centre directly in front of the door. Cora nodded to Carson. Carson opened the door.

Mary saw Matthew in his wheelchair in the middle of the driveway. He was holding the reins of a horse... Diamond.

She must have said his name out loud because he looked at her and whinnied.

Mary walked as if in a trance up to him, she took his reins from Matthew and buried her face in Diamond's neck. She was crying. She could hear clapping. She ran her hands over his flanks. There was a long jagged scar along his ribs but otherwise he was fine. He turned his head and nudged her.

"Sorry old friend I don't have anything with me." She felt something nudge her in the hip. She looked down and Matthew was holding an apple out to her. She took it and offered it to Diamond who snatched it out of her hand, almost taking a finger with it. She was going to have to refresh his manners. She was bawling now. Diamond was nudging her again and she put her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Later as they were watching Mary walk away with Lynch, leading Diamond back to the stables, Robert patted Matthew on the shoulder. "Don't worry, she'll remember she has a husband in three or four weeks and she'll thank you then."

Robert was wrong. She did not forget she had a husband and she thanked him profusely that very night. She reeked of horse and although he much preferred the French perfume he had bought her Matthew did not complain.


	22. Love Minus Zero

_A/N: the version of the chapter title song by Steve Tilston is recommended._

Love Minus Zero

March 15, 1919 on

It was agreed that the York and Ainsty would hold a hunt at the start of April. There had not been a hunt during the war and it was felt that the foxes had been getting quite brazen in their depredations.

Robert missed the first two meeting of the club and to make up for it he invited the executive to dinner at the Abbey, with the proviso that they hold their final meeting over their cigars and port after dinner, before they rejoined the ladies. This generous offer was gratefully accepted. It was only afterwards that Robert found out the newest member of the club's executive was Col. James Hepburn, Sir Richard Carlisle's steward at Haxby Park.

After the incident of the ink stained reiver Sir Richard had honoured his agreement. He had closed up the great house at Haxby Park, paid off the staff and put the estate up for sale. Given the size of the estate and the shortage of ready cash during the war there had been no takers. Word had it that with the end of the war Sir Richard was hopeful that a sale could be effected to some war profiteer or such. Col. Hepburn had been hired to supervise the bringing of the estate to a point where it displayed its best to a potential purchaser.

Col. Hepburn was tall, dark and handsome. He wore his black hair rather longer than the style. He was an excellent horseman, of the centaur class. He had supposedly commanded a squadron of dragoons in some of the great cavalry charges of the war although he was vague about places and dates. He was charming and was reputed to be quite a ladies man.

Matthew detested Col. Hepburn from the moment he met him.

Robert had apologized to Matthew and Mary; when he had made the invitation he had not known Sir Richard's man would be included; perhaps they could skip the dinner or something. But Matthew had shrugged, the die had already been cast, and he knew Mary was looking forward to the hunt, so they would attend the dinner and do their best to avoid the man. Which proved to be impossible.

During the introductions Col. Hepburn made a point of telling Matthew and Mary that he was an independent contractor retained to carry out a specific contract and in no way was he an employee of Sir Richard; and that he was aware of her past unhappy relationship with Sir Richard and he hoped that they would not hold this against him. He said this in a loud enough voice that everyone in the Great Hall heard him, which of course reminded them of the rumours that Sir Richard had spread that he and Mary were lovers. Rumours known to Matthew and Mary and the rest of the Crawleys to be false, but what did the others know? All this time the colonel was holding onto Mary's hand, so she finally had to extricate it with her other hand. This set Matthew's teeth on edge.

When Col. Hepburn had finally moved on Mary whispered to Matthew "Stay calm, it will be OK" and she squeezed his shoulder.

When the dinner gong rang everyone filed into the dining room and it was not OK. Somehow Col. Hepburn had managed to trade places with someone and he was now one of Mary's dining partners. Matthew was on the other side of the table and he glowered at them. Mary gave him a little hand signal telling him 'I can handle this'.

To Matthew's viewing Mary seemed to handle things by encouraging Col. Hepburn. The colonel was apparently quite the raconteur for he soon had his end of the table, including Mary, laughing and smiling at his stories. Whenever he lagged Mary would say something and he would set off on another story to the enjoyment of everyone around him. As he watched them laugh Matthew's mood soured.

When the meal was concluded the ladies filed out of the dining room. Col. Hepburn got up and came over to Matthew. He gave Matthew a most ingratiating smile. "You are a very lucky man to be married to such a delightful lady. She was telling me how she is looking forward the hunt. Pity you can't ride, I bet she'd like to ride five or six times a week. But never fear old chap I'd be happy to volunteer to see that she gets her share of excitement without hurting herself." The colonel paused, as if to see if Matthew was going to take him up on this offer. When Matthew said nothing, the colonel continued "I imagine that you have no interest in the dealings of the hunt club so perhaps I could push you through to the ladies?"

Matthew refused this offer "Thank you, but I'll just sit here at this end of the table with my port and contemplate the day's events" and how to kill you Matthew thought to himself.

Matthew finished his port in the face of the interminable meeting. He did not want a second round, nor did he want to join the ladies, not in the mood he was in, so he wheeled himself out of the dining room into the Great Hall. There he spotted Carson moving from the drawing room to the dining room, looking rather harried, which was not surprising given how shorthanded he was.

"Excuse me Carson, do you mind getting the front door for me? I feel like going out on the front step for some fresh air." The door was too heavy for Matthew to open himself from his wheelchair bound position.

"Certainly sir" Carson opened the door and Matthew wheeled himself through. "Would you like a coat?" when Matthew refused he asked "When would you like me to come back for you?"

"Five minutes should do it"

"Very well sir"

There was still frost in the late March air. Matthew embraced the chill as it dissipated his anger. Mary loved him. She was just playing the gracious hostess. She was not excited by that cavalry twit. Five minutes passed and Matthew was ready to wheel himself up to his lovely wife and have her place her hand on his shoulder where he could nuzzle it with his cheek.

His cold cheek. Where was Carson? Matthew tried to open the door. He could not get sufficient leverage to work the latch. He tried to reach the bell. It was just out of his grasp. He settled back into the wheel chair. He was starting to regret not taking his coat when Carson had offered it. Where was Carson? He looked at the autos of the guests. In the hopes that a chauffeur would see him he waved his arms wildly. There was no response but the movement warmed him up. A little, and not for long.

Another five minutes passed. Matthew could see his breath. One consolation was that when frostbite started taking his toes he wouldn't feel it. When the hunt club meeting broke up there was bound to be a guest who would go home then rather than spending time with the ladies. If he could only hold out until then...

Another five minutes passed. This was starting to remind Matthew, not in a good way,of standing guard duty. He had to laugh at the bitter irony – the whole German army, in four years of trying, hadn't managed to kill him; for that it took a butler.

-0-

Mary could not see Matthew when the gentlemen joined the ladies. She motioned to Carson "Has Mr. Crawley retired for the night?"

Carson blinked at her. "I will check for you your ladyship". He then left the drawing room at triple his normal dignified pace.

Matthew had never seen the butler flustered before but he was certainly flustered now. Carson was clucking over Matthew as if he were dying. He was also worrying what the Earl would say about his dereliction of duty.

Matthew put up his hand to forestall the apologizes which were pouring out of Carson. "Stop. I'm OK, just a little cold. I'm glad you came when you did though. I would've hated for my last words to have been 'I am just going outside and may be some time' Did anyone notice I was missing?"

"Lady Mary asked where you were. She thought you might have gone to bed."

"So don't worry then, no one knows and we'll keep it to ourselves. Now please push me into the drawing room, park me by the fireplace and get me a large brandy"

Matthew watched for Mary as Carson pushed him into the drawing room. He spotted her in a group of people centred on the ubiquitous Col. Hepburn who was telling some story which required a lot of extravagant hand motions. He watched her for a while, worried that he would see the colonel touching her arm but there was nothing like that. If there had been he would have wheeled down to his bedroom, dug his Webley out of his footlocker and came back and shot the colonel right then and there. But there had not been and so he turned his wheelchair away and sipped his brandy.

Matthew felt a hand on his shoulder but only for a second. It then moved to his cheek and then to his other cheek. "You're freezing" Mary exclaimed. "Are you ill?"

Matthew took her hand in his. "No. I just went outside for a moment to cool off. That's all" He nodded towards Col. Hepburn "I see you have a new admirer"

Mary looked at the colonel and then turned back to Matthew. "You are forgetting that one of your duties is to rescue me from sea monsters. I don't think I could act at being amused by one of his stories for another five minutes."

"Some of his war stories don't seem to ring true. I think I'll ask your father to have his friend, Freddie, at the War Office check the colonel out."

"Ask him tomorrow. In the meantime I think we had better get you into a hot bath to warm you up."

"I'd like that. And I don't think we have to bother Bates, with that new trapeze setup I can get in and out of the tub on my own."

"But you still need a lifeguard."

"A lifeguard sitting on a chair, or a lifeguard actually in the water? It's a big tub after all"

"Play your cards right and you'll find out how big the tub really is. And I've got a couple of ideas on how to use that trapeze."

As Mary pushed Matthew out of the drawing room they said their good nights to the guests, including of course Col. Hepburn, who stepped in their path and extended his hand to her. "Lady Mary I am sorry to hear that you have to leave so early" leaving unspoken the thought 'to care for your crippled husband' which all three of them understood to be his meaning. "I look forward to riding with you at the hunt" Mary extracted her hand from the colonel's grasp and he patted Matthew on the shoulder "Remember my offer old chap, I'd be happy to take care of your wife."

As they went down the hall Mary asked "What offer was he talking about?"

"Directly he was offering to ride with you at the hunt and see that you got your share of excitement without hurting yourself"

"You know Lynch is coming with me. He'll keep me and Diamond out of danger." She stopped pushing and came around and looked at Matthew. "You said 'directly' so you must think he was making some sort of 'indirect' offer as well"

Matthew snorted. "Don't act so naive. You know perfectly well that not only was he offering to ride with you he was offering to ride you."

Mary knelt down and grabbed both of Matthew's hands, squeezing them hard. "I'm not naive. I know what his game is. I lost badly once at such a game and I know better now." Matthew tried to object that he did not want to bring 'that' up but Mary continued on "We both know what happened. It will never happen again. You are mine and I am yours and there will be no one else between us now or the future. Do you understand?"

Matthew nodded his agreement and they kissed.

The two lovers had a nice warm bath together. As they lay in the tub they discussed alternate uses of the trapeze but they did not get around to trying any of them.


	23. Not Dark Yet

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Jimmy LaFave is recommended._

Not Dark Yet

The only time Mary left Matthew's side was when she worked out Diamond to prepare him for the hunt. It was during those times the blackness seeped back into Matthew's mind.

He was not worried about Mary's love for him. It was pure and strong. Her devotion to him was absolute, it would not fall to the oleaginous blandishments of Col. Hepburn. No, he worried that her love for him was destroying her. He had taken a lot from her and every day he took more. And what he left Diamond took. That damn horse, worse idea he ever had. And so she would give her life to them, to the exclusion of all else, until that day came when they had both left her for the great beyond. And what would be left then: a dried up husk of an old woman, with no children and no grandchildren, just memories. Would it not be better for her in the long run for him to go; he knew in the short run her grief would be immense, but in the long run she would move on, find someone good and true, not that damn Carlisle, but someone who would devote his life to making her happy. Look at Sir Anthony, by all accounts he had loved his first wife, but he had moved on and he and Edith appeared to be very happy. Matthew knew if he tried to suggest to Mary that there was a happy future waiting for her without him she would just brush him off. She would never leave him. So perhaps it fell to him to leave her. He brooded on the instrumentality of leaving.

The blackness shrank back each time when Mary came back from her ride, all rosy cheeks and smiles, glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. It lit Matthew up to see her happy like that and so the blackness receded, but never as far back as it had been the previous day.

Saturday, April 5, 1919

Finally the day of the hunt arrived. The blackness subsumed Matthew. It had a plan, he was part of the plan, he must carry out the plan for Mary. For her happiness.

The moment came. Lynch was in the driveway holding Diamond's reins. Matthew was parked in his wheelchair on the top step by the front door. The rest of the Crawleys and Carson and some of the other servants were clustered about.

Mary, resplendent in her hunting outfit, walked up to him. "Wish me luck" she smiled.

Loud enough so the others could hear Matthew said "I think I'll wish the fox luck". While the others were laughing he took her hands in his and pulled her close. He whispered in her ear "Don't go, stay with me."

She laughed, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and pulled back. "Don't worry I'll be OK". She gave his hands a squeeze and let them go. "You wouldn't begrudge me some excitement would you?."

He gave her a thin smile in response. "No, I know of your need for excitement. You're entitled to it. Go on. Have a good time. Remember, no matter what, I love you"

She smiled at him and went to Diamond.

When she had mounted up and she and Lynch were turning their horses towards the road she heard Matthew call out to her:

"Goodbye Mary".

She turned back and saw him with his right hand up, but not really waving it.

-0-

As they rode towards the appointed gathering place Mary was glad of Lynch's taciturn nature because she was bothered by what Matthew had said and the way he had said it.

Isobel had warned her 'don't baby him, he'll get all clingy.' And what had she gone and done but spoilt him. She couldn't help herself, he was hers and he needed her. All the time apparently. He'd just have to learn that she was entitled to some time of her own. But as she rode on this explanation for his behaviour did not satisfy her, She knew how Edith's children acted when their mother left them at the Abbey and this was nothing like that. What was Matthew's problem?

She thought about what he had said. He had called out 'goodbye' to her. He never said 'goodbye' to her. When they parted he always used some variation of 'I'll see you later'. Why had he said 'I know of your need for excitement'? What an awkward phrasing, yet...yet it was somehow familiar to her. She was trying to recall when she had heard it before when Lynch got her attention.

"Excuse me your Ladyship but there appears to be someone waiting for us at the crossroads."

Mary looked. It was Col. Hepburn.

-0-

"Good morning Lady Mary" Hepburn tipped his hat at her. "A beautiful day for a hunt"

Mary nodded at him "Good morning Colonel"

"You can send your man back" he suggested "I'll see to you from now on"

Mary squinted at him "I don't think so, Lynch enjoys the hunt" She nudged Diamond into a walk. The colonel fell in beside her.

As they rode along side by side Mary tried to solve her puzzle but Col. Hepburn's incessant prattling kept distracting her. Everything he said was laced with impropriety and innuendo; he admired her 'seat' but he wasn't just complimenting her riding ability; he bragged he was an excellent 'rider', it was apparent to him she loved to 'ride', they lived so close together, they should 'ride' together often. If the colonel thought such talk would seduce her he was well and truly a pig. She was glad Lynch was with her, if Col. Hepburn ever caught her alone she feared he would be no better than... Pamuk...and a piece of the puzzle fell into place. The day of their 'betrothal' Matthew had asked her why she had done it and she had told him that it had just been 'lust, a need for excitement'. Why had she used that word 'excitement' to him? But he knew she wasn't attracted to Col. Hepburn, didn't he?

Throughout she had been making noncommittal noises as Col. Hepburn talked and he must have taken some encouragement from them as she now heard him say he would be 'much more discrete than Sir Richard had been in their relationship' and she was just about to snap 'what relationship sir!" when another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

In response to that horrid letter Aunt Rosamund had sent to him about Sir Richard Matthew had written her words to the effect that 'If you have taken a lover ...just write goodbye. It will be enough'. Then on Armistice Day when Matthew had told her about the blackness that came over him he had said he was not saying 'goodbye' to her. She realized now that there had been an unspoken 'yet'.

She curled her lip. Matthew knew Col. Hepburn wasn't, and never would be, her lover. She was sure of that. So what had he been saying? She had said not to 'begrudge her some excitement'. Because of what she had told him before he equated excitement with lust and he had just agreed she was entitled to excitement. So in his mind he was agreeing she was entitled to lust. Lust he could not satisfy. So she could take a lover. If not Col. Hepburn then someone else. And his saying 'goodbye' meant he was going away so she could do so. But he was confined to a wheelchair, where could he go?

The final piece fell into place.


	24. One Of Us Must Know

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Mick Hucknall is recommended._

One Of Us Must Know

Saturday, April 5, 1919 cont'd

"No!" Mary cried out She jerked Diamond to a halt. Both Lynch and the colonel halted their horses as well and stared at her. "I just remembered, I have to go back"

Col. Hepburn reached over and grabbed Diamond's bridle. "Wait a minute. What's so important that it can't wait until after the hunt?" Diamond tried to shake off the colonel's grip but he couldn't.

Mary glared at Col. Hepburn "Ever since my grandfather's favourite horse broke a leg in a badger hole and it took an hour to fetch a gun to put the horse out of his misery our senior groom has always carried a revolver. Lynch, if the colonel doesn't let go of my bridle shoot him"

"With pleasure your Ladyship" answered Lynch, and it would be a pleasure, he had not appreciated the improper way in which the colonel had been addressing his lady.

Col Hepburn let go of the bridle like it was red hot "I was just...:

"Oh ride off! " Mary told him and she wheeled Diamond around and started galloping him back to the Abbey. She prayed she wasn't already too late.

-0-

Diamond skidded to a halt in the gravel in front of the Abbey and Mary slid off him She dropped the reins, she knew Lynch was just behind her, he would take care of Diamond.

As she burst though the front door she saw Bates going up the staircase. "Where's Mr. Crawley?" she called.

"He's in your bedroom" Bates answered.

"Is he sleeping?" Mary started walking that way.

"No, he's cleaning his revolver"

Mary started running.

-0-

Mary threw the door to their bedroom open. She froze. Matthew was parked in front of her vanity, he was holding up his revolver and squinting down the barrel. He had the same frozen look he had had when he had first been brought to the hospital after his injury.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He answered in a flat monotone. "Cleaning my revolver, when you have to make one shot count you don't want a misfire" He looked at her "Is the hunt over already? I thought you'd be gone for hours."

"Were you still going to be here when I got back?"

"More or less"

"Alive?"

Matthew ignored her question. He continued cleaning the revolver. "Why don't you go have some lunch? I'll be done here in about half an hour."

"So where did you put the note?"

"There's no note, it would complicate the coroner's finding of accidental death while cleaning ..."

"So are you going to tell me why?" she interrupted.

Matthew ignored her.

"WHY?" she screamed.

"You are entitled to more of a life than I can give you. You will be happier without me. You'll find someone better, someone whole ...You'll have children..."

"But I love you..."

"And I love you too but I can't excite you... now go and leave me to it" Matthew turned away from Mary and started putting bullets in the cylinder of the revolver.

"There's more to me than lust! Look at me!" Mary went up to the wheelchair and wrenched as hard as she could on one of the handles. This spun the wheelchair around dumping Matthew into her. They fell to the floor.

Mary scrambled so she was laying on top of Matthew. She grabbed onto his ears and was crying as she told him "You're not leaving me.. we'll go together.. I'll kill myself too..."

Matthew was trying to push her off "Mary get off of me! You're breaking my leg!"

She blinked at him "You can feel your leg?"

"Yes! It hurts!"

She got off of him and knelt beside his legs. His right leg was twisted underneath his left leg. She moved it to its proper position.

Matthew flexed his right knee. "I think it'll be OK, I'll just walk it off:" he stopped and stared at her. He stared at his leg. He willed it to move and it moved. He looked back at Mary.

She pinched his right calf.

"Ouch"

She started pinching his legs all over hard, saying "Do you feel that?" over and over again.

He kept saying "ouch", it really hurt, and trying to make her stop and they were both laughing and crying and that's how Carson and Mrs. Hughes found them when they came to investigate what was causing all the racket.

It was lucky they came when they did, before Mary started the second phase of her examination.

An examination which was completed later that night to the satisfaction of everyone concerned. Actually the examination was carried out two further times in order to verify the results. The results were positive each time.


	25. Dirt Road Blues

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Pieta Brown is recommended_

Dirt Road Blues

Now that he could walk again Matthew did not want to sit down. At first he had to use two canes but he quickly was able to discard one. The initial problem was balance, not atrophied leg muscles. That infernal rackicycle had kept his muscles in good shape, all things considered. He had to learn how to stand erect again. But it came back to him, like riding a bicycle would he suggested to Mary but she wouldn't let him get out his old two wheeler just yet.

Dr. Clarkson told him walking was the best exercise and so Matthew walked everywhere all the time. Each day he went on an early morning walk before Mary got up. After breakfast they walked the grounds around the Abbey. Three afternoons a week Mary exercised Diamond after lunch while Matthew walked with Robert. Three afternoons a week Matthew and Mary walked, some times to the village, but mostly touring the far reaches of the Estate. Matthew took to carrying a notebook and they would write down things they saw on the estate, bad things which had to be corrected, good things which might be duplicated elsewhere. They learned the names of all the tenants and workers, their families and even their dogs and what their concerns were. It made Mary happy and proud, whether he knew it or not, Matthew was learning to be the lord and master of their, not his or hers, but their Downton Abbey. They walked rain or shine, or at least Matthew did, Mary sometimes begged off if the weather was too inclement, but Matthew forged on dressed in his tweeds, mac and wellies. Isis often accompanied them, especially those days they packed a light picnic lunch for their tea. Sundays they all walked to church.

On a beautiful day, almost a month to the day that Matthew had regained the use of his legs, and she smiled to herself, other parts of his body, she felt that he was strong enough, and perhaps more importantly, she was strong enough to confront him about his actions on that day. She had Mrs. Patmore pack her a light picnic lunch as they might be some time. She chose their special bench, it was far enough away from the house so that if their voices were raised, and she felt certain they would be, no one would hear. And it had so many special memories for them that he would feel safe there and not be compelled to flee when she started berating him.

When the two of them, and Isis who had tagged along, got to the bench Mary sat down. She patted the bench beside her. "Come sit down"

Matthew smiled at her "You can't be tired already"

"Sit!" Mary was not smiling. Matthew sat down. Isis did too.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"We have to talk about what happened the day of the hunt; or should I say what didn't happen then"

Matthew grabbed her hand "I'm sorry, it's just that I thought..."

Mary pulled her hand back. "Your problem is that you think too much, you never listen and you never talk things over. You do what you think is right never conceding that you might be wrong. That has to end and it ends today."

"But I..."

"Shut up and listen! I love you. You love me. We are married. We are one not two. We decide things together. You will never, ever decide anything for us again. We will decide together. Do you understand?" She glared at him.

"I was doing it for you." When she started to say something he continued "I listened to you so let me talk as well. As things were before I could not meet all your needs..."

"Needs?" she sneered. "For what? Lust? Do you think I'm some sort of slut and that's all I live for?" She poked him in the chest. "You satisfy all the lust I have; then, now and you will until we are so old and grey we forget why we are lying in bed naked together."

"But I could never give you..."

"Children? Do you see our children frolicking about? Since you recovered we've been going at it like profligate rabbits. Like we did during every leave you had. And what do we have to show for it? Nothing. In the same time Edith has had two children with another one on the way. Let's face it I'm barren. No matter what noble sacrifice you thought you were making I'm never going to have any children." She could feel the tears coming but she held them back.

"But you had..."

"I think the illness ..."

Matthew pulled Mary into a hug. "It's likely me, I'm probably shooting blanks." He pulled back and kissed her. "I propose that when we next go to London, we see the appropriate Harley Street specialists and get our respective plumbing checked out. If they find something which can fixed we will get it fixed. If there's nothing to be done, well we will spoil our nieces and nephews and work on breaking the entail. All in favour?" Mary nodded "Good, carried unanimously. Now one last thing I want to deal with before we seal it away with other things we never will talk about again. I was wrong to be doing what I was going to do. I am so sorry I hurt you. The blackness is gone, it will not return. We may have troubles in the future but that won't be one of them. I will never you leave that way. I love you so." And he hugged her tight. They were both crying at this point.

Later, after their tears had dried and they had spent a good deal of time with Mary tucked up underneath Matthew's arm, sitting on the bench contemplating the prospects of their future, Isis had had enough. She made it clear to them that it was time to eat. Neither of them were all that hungry so Isis enjoyed the lunch as their proxy.

"There's one more thing I'd like to do in London"

"Just one?" Mary asked as she traced small circles on the inside of his thigh.

"Quit that unless you want...say did we ever do it in the gazebo?"

"As I recall the stone is rather cold on bare flesh...what was this other thing you wanted to do?"

"Purchase a gramophone"

"A gramophone?"

"It's a machine that plays recorded..."

"I know what a gramophone is. Have you developed a sudden urge to have the music of the great masters fill the Abbey?"

"That too but I was thinking of dance music"

"Dance music?"

"Yes, dancing is good exercise for the legs. But that's not the main reason. According to my calculations I have not danced with my wife nearly enough. I intend to catch up."

"That is a worthy goal"

Isis looked at the two of them snogging. So much for today's walk. She sighed, but being a practical dog, she soon found a nice patch of sun on the grass and laid down for a snooze.


	26. The Wicked Messenger

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Thea Gilmore is recommended._

The Wicked Messenger

Wednesday, May 7, 1919

Sir Richard Carlisle considered Col. James Hepburn and found him wanting. "I had understood you to be a master of seduction"

Hepburn shrugged. "The lady cannot be seduced. I thought there was a chance while her husband was confined to a wheelchair. She certainly was pleasant and friendly towards me when I dined at Downton Abbey but I fear she may have just been acting as a good hostess." Sir Richard nodded, he knew what a natural hostess Lady Mary was. The colonel continued "If I had just an opportunity to get her alone I'm sure I could have charmed her but.." again Sir Richard nodded, he had thought the same thing "...but now that her husband has recovered I don't think I will get such a chance. According to the gossip in Downton the two of them are acting like newlyweds."

Sir Richard frowned. "Then perhaps it's time to make an opportunity"

"What do you mean?"

"You should endeavour to be alone with her"

"She would never agree to such a thing"

"Then you should do it without her consent"

"Abduct her?" Hepburn snorted "That would certainly make her receptive to my charms"

"Then take her anyway"

Col. Hepburn "Force her? I have my scruples sir!"

"Really?" Sir Richard opened the file he had on his desk. "According to the dossier I had compiled on you there were at least two times in which you used force to get your way and your father had to buy you out of the resulting trouble"

"There were extenuating circumstances.."

"As there are in this case... two thousand of them"

The colonel licked his lips "Her husband will kill me when he finds out...and if he doesn't I'll end up in prison."

"She won't tell anyone. Her shame will be such that she won't tell anyone. You'll be able to hold it over her and do it over and over again. A dozen times should be sufficient."

Col. Hepburn stared at the madman across from him. Still..."I want half now"

"Five hundred now, the rest when the deed is done; provided it is done by the end of the summer."

Saturday, May 10, 1919

Lynch trotted his horse up along side Mary and Diamond.

"Please stop your Ladyship"

Mary complied with his request.

"Please don't look around your Ladyship but we are being watched."

It was all Mary could do to stop herself from swivelling around and scanning the horizon.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Our horses sense another horse. I learned that in South Africa, our horses knew the Boers were coming before we did. It's in those woods on the that hill to your left. Don't look! I'm going to make a show of taking out my pocket watch and showing you the time. Then you make a motion with your arm in agreement and then we turn the horses around and head back to the Abbey nice and slow. If we are pursued I want you to gallop like you have the hounds of hell behind you."

"And what are you going to do?"

"I've got the revolver. I'll hold them up. It won't be the first time I've shot a man out of the saddle. Are you ready your Ladyship?" Mary nodded and Lynch pulled out his watch.

They were not pursued.

-0-

Later, after sunset but before the light had died all together, Lynch and Matthew, both armed, rode to the back of the hill where Lynch thought the strange horse had been. Matthew regretted the necessity for riding, he had not ridden in years, and the jarring up and down was playing hell with his back. He was looking forward to the massage Mary had promised on his return. She and Robert had both wanted to come as well but Matthew had refused them. To mollify Mary he had promised to give her a massage as well.

They tethered their horses and crept through the woods. Matthew was impressed with the older man's trail craft. They found a small clearing. Lynch pointed out two piles of horse dung. He told Matthew that one was fresh that day and the other looked to be from the day before. There was a line of tracks leading away from the clearing. It was getting too dark to follow them but they were certainly pointed towards Haxby Park.

-0-

Matthew, Robert and Lynch considered a map of the estate. The hill the spy had been hiding on was located well within the boundaries of the estate. It was well away from the public roads. There was no way some lost traveller could have accidentally headed up there, not two days in a row. But if that someone had wanted to spy on Mary as she rode out he could have picked no better place.

Something had to be done. Robert was all for calling in the constable but Matthew vetoed that. He would care of things, but not hastily. First he would call in some of his old comrades in arms.


	27. Rollin' and Tumblin'

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended_

Rollin' and Tumblin'

Tuesday, May 20, 1919

The morning Harper, Marx and Sparks were due at the Downton railway station Robert showed Matthew a letter he had received from his friend Freddie. It seemed that Col. Hepburn was not a colonel at all. Hepburn was the bastard son of a minor Scottish laird. At the start of the war his father had obtained a captaincy for him in a second rate cavalry regiment. The first time they had engaged the enemy he had turned tail and ran. To avoid the regiment being publicly disgraced he had been quietly cashiered. According to the Military Provost's office he had spent the rest of the war involved in the black market in northern France.

"A curious choice of steward for Sir Richard to make" Robert concluded.

"Unless he was hired for some other reason" Matthew pointed out.

-0-

"You want me to be bait again?" Mary asked.

"Yes."

"Doesn't the bait occasionally get eaten?"

"It won't happen. Look we need you. Marx is the only one of us we could disguise as you for use as a decoy and I'm a better rider than he is. He wouldn't fool anyone. It has to be you."

"Then I want to be there when the dogs take the fox."

"No"

"Then I won't..."

"Yes you will and no you will not be there when we deal with him."

"I insist!"

Matthew stood up. "Then we will think of some other way to do it." He started to walk away.

"Wait, I'll do it"

"You will do only what I say and not try to do anything further?"

"I promise"

-0-

Matthew's men spent three days hidden on the hill before the spy appeared. From cover they watched him as he watched Mary and Lynch riding below with binoculars. They were ready to interfere if he tried anything but he did nothing untoward. After Mary and Lynch rode out of sight he turned his horse and left. They followed him back to Haxby Park where he stabled his horse.

The spy was Col. James Hepburn.

-0-

Three days later the ambush was set.

-0-

Col. Hepburn sat on his horse in his hiding place waiting for Lady Mary to appear around the bend.

When she did he smiled. She was all alone. He urged his horse forward.

When she saw him Lady Mary did not turn tail and run. This disappointed Col. Hepburn. He had been looking forward to the thrill of the chase. His young hunter could easily out run her horse. He imagined how it would happen; her frantic looks back as he gained on her; his horse pulling along side; he reaching across and pulling her out of her saddle and draping her across his; just like a Cossack of old. He laughed to himself. This was going to be fun.

But she did not run. He stopped his horse an arm's length from hers. She backed Diamond away ten yards.

"Sir, you are trespassing on Downton Abbey lands!" she scolded.

"That's not the only thing I'm going to be trespassing on." He laughed at her. "Where's that elderly groom of yours, home with rheumatism? I've come prepared for him" and he pulled back his coat to show her that he had a revolver in a shoulder harness.

Mary gasped. Matthew had to told to expect that the colonel would have a weapon and what to do if he produced it. Pretend to faint and slump down, hanging on the side of Diamond opposite the colonel. Lynch had fashioned a collar harness for Diamond, a circus rig he called it, for Mary to clutch onto. She was then to gallop away. Matthew and Lynch had had her practice doing this until she could do it perfectly a dozen times in a row. She had only fallen off twice.

Mary had raised the obvious objection – Col. Hepburn would just come after her. Matthew had taken her to a makeshift firing range they had set up. She had heard sporadic firing throughout the day. Harper was there sighting in a rifle with a telescope mounted on it. "It's ready" he told Matthew.

"Stay here" Matthew told Mary. He then picked up a cardboard target and walked down range about a hundred yards. Mary thought he was going to place it on something but he stopped, turned around and held it over his head with both hands. The rifle fired and Mary jumped. Matthew walked back and showed Mary the target. There was a hole in the bull's eye. "When you slump down Harper is going to shoot Hepburn."

Col. Hepburn did not pull out his revolver. Mary let her breath. There was no need for her to slump down. Yet. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"You know what I want. Now are there two ways we can proceed. There is a pretty little glade up that hill where I can spread out a blanket. You cooperate and I promise you I will take you to levels of ecstasy that that you only dream of going to with that semi-invalid husband of yours. Or" and he sneered at her "I can take you without your cooperation. I do enjoy a little spice. Even then you will be screaming with joy before I am done."

Mary had heard enough. She did the second thing Matthew had told her to do. She held up her hand palm towards him and screamed "Stop!" in as loud a voice as she could. Matthew had been emphatic that he wanted a scream not a yell and she did her best to oblige.

Col. Hepburn startled. Then a shot rang and they both heard a bullet go whistling by them. Mary knew Harper had missed on purpose, he was just trying to spook Hepburn not kill him. Mary watched to see if the colonel would pull his revolver but before he could decide to there came the sounds of shots and banshee wailing from behind her.

"You had better run Colonel that's the cavalry coming" she yelled at him.

Col. Hepburn gave her a frightened look and then wheeled his horse and started galloping away.

Mary urged Diamond in pursuit but just then Lynch rode past her and Matthew was along side her yelling at her "No Mary! You promised!" She pulled Diamond up. Matthew managed to stop his horse a few yards past her. She watched as he reached back to massage his back. She walked Diamond up to him and reached over and rubbed his back. Just then her father joined them as well. They watched Hepburn gallop up the hill as if Lynch, by then the only pursuer, embodied all the fiends of hell..

"Are you OK?" Matthew asked Mary.

"I'm fine, what about your back?" she answered.

"I'm going to need a massage for sure tonight" he smiled as her.

Robert coughed and asked. "What did Hepburn say to you?"

Mary told them. Both men frowned.

"Go back to the house with your father" Matthew told her.

"But I.."

"No. I don't want you to see what happens next. Remember your promise." Matthew reached over and touched her cheek. "I'll be back shortly."

Mary and Robert watched Matthew walk his horse up the hill and then they turned their horses back towards the Abbey.

-0-

As he crested the hill Col. Hepburn felt he was well away from his pursuers. He did not see the rope that Marx and Sparks had stretched between two trees.


	28. Changing of the Guards

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by The Gaslight Anthem is recommended_

Changing of the Guards

As Hepburn lay on the ground, winded, trying to breathe, a man he did not recognize squatted down beside him.

"You're a lucky man. Over in France we did that to a German motorcycle dispatch rider. Took his head clean off. Mind you we used wire instead of rope. What's this?"

Hepburn could not raise his head but he could feel the man taking his revolver and pulling something out his jacket pocket. For a second he thought he was being robbed but then he remembered what he had in that pocket. He closed his eyes. How to explain those?

When Hepburn opened his eyes he saw Maj. Crawley standing over him. The major was holding the four neckties that had been in his pocket in one hand and a rather large stone in the other.

"Well Colonel, or should I say Captain, unless you can come up with some satisfactory explanation as to your presence on this hill I am going to drop this stone on your forehead. Then we will turn your body over and voila! An unfortunate riding accident. And let me tell you this stone is getting awfully heavy. I don't think that I'll be able to hold it much longer."

Hepburn lipped his lips. He suddenly felt very dry. "It was all Sir Richard Carlisle's idea. If you let me go I'll tell you all about. it."

Matthew stared down at Hepburn and curled his lip. He thought about it. Let the captain go and bag the general. A worthwhile trade. He motioned to Harper to have Hepburn propped up against a tree. He dropped the stone on the ground and got his pencil and notebook out of his jacket pocket.

"You are going to write two confessions" he told Hepburn. "The first will be about how ashamed you are that you have been discovered to have been fraudulently passing yourself as a colonel and a war hero. If you don't immediately leave the country I will show this confession to the police. The second will detail your dealings with Sir Richard. If you are completely forthcoming I will not kill you. I cannot make the same promise vis a vis Sir Richard" and he gave Hepburn a wolfish grin "but I don't suppose you really care what happens to him do you?"

The first confession only took one page. The second was several pages long as Hepburn had to keep revising it under Matthew's cross examination. When he was done to Matthew's satisfaction his hands were tied behind his back with one of the neckties.

"My men will lead you back to Haxby Park and they are going to see you off on your trip. Don't ever come back."

Matthew started walking back to his own horse. Harper followed him. When they were out of Hepburn's earshot Harper hissed as Matthew "You can't just let him go. Not after what you heard he was going to do to Lady Mary"

Matthew looked at Harper with a look colder than Harper had ever seen before. "I promised I wouldn't kill him. I didn't make that promise on behalf of anyone else." He tore the first confession out of his notebook and gave it to Harper. "Tuck this in his jacket pocket, it will make a good suicide note."

Tuesday, May 27, 1919

"Col. Hepburn committed suicide." Mary said to Matthew.

"So it would appear."

"He hung himself with neckties he had knotted together. "

"So they say"

"He left a note."

"He was ashamed he had been misleading so many people."

"He did not say anything about me"

"Not in that note." Matthew reached inside his jacket and retrieved the second of the late colonel's confessions. "He did in his second note." He handed it to Mary.

She read through, stared at Matthew with her mouth open, read through it again. "He was hired by Sir Richard to ..."

Matthew interrupted her "Don't say that word"

"He was infected with...Sir Richard knew he was infected.."

"Yes, that's why Sir Richard hired him." Matthew held out his hand for the note and Mary gave it to him.

"What are you going to do?"

"What I should have done the first time but..."

"But I talked you out of it... You told me what would happen"

Matthew shrugged.

"When will you..." Mary asked.

"As soon as I can come up with an airtight..."

"Plan?"

"Alibi"

"Alibi?"

"When Sir Richard suffers his slow and painful end whom do you think the police will want to speak to first?" When Mary just looked at him Matthew answered his own question "The cuckolded husband of his lover."

"But I was never his..."

Matthew took Mary's hand. "I know that but that's not what London society has heard".

By way of non sequitur Matthew then told Mary "My mother has invited us to the opera in London in two weeks"

"Your mother? To the opera?"

"My reaction exactly. I don't like it when she gets all operatic".

"If we're going to London we can see those specialists on Harley Street."

"That too."


	29. Corinna, Corinna

A/N: the version of the chapter title song by The Shuffle Monsters is recommended.

Corinna, Corinna

Matthew and Mary went to London a week before the opera. They visited their respective specialists on the same day. They were each poked and prodded, Mary in one more place than Matthew; and they each gave various samples, Matthew one more than Mary. They were told to come back in a week for the results.

When they met Matthew asked "Well?"

"He said to come back in a week"

"Mine too. It must be a union thing. What would you like to do the rest of the day?"

"I don't know. After going through all those clinical procedures I feel like all the romance has been drained out of my life."

Matthew laughed. "Well we'll have to rekindle it. Now it's too early in the day to start plying you with champagne so how about..." he paused, thinking "... we can go to Kew Gardens, the bluebells should be still in bloom."

-0-

Walking through the fields of bluebells, arm in arm, they did not speak, both thinking of their possible test results. When they were at last out of the sight of other patrons Matthew stopped. He turned to Mary and put his arms around her. He quoted:

_There is a silent eloquence_

_In every wild bluebell_

_That fills my softened heart with bliss_

_That words could never tell"_

She smiled at him. "Emily Bronte, I'm impressed."

"It's Anne I think, didn't Emily's go:

_The Bluebell is the sweetest flower__  
That waves in summer air:  
Its blossoms have the mightiest power  
To soothe my spirit's care."_

Mary thought. "Maybe. We'll look it up when we get back to Grantham House. But aren't they both sad poems?"

"Don't over think it. Think about this" and he kissed her.

"That reminds of another poem which I read in one of the books father kept on the high shelves, ones he didn't think we could reach."

"Oh? And what forbidden poem would this be?"

"It's by Christopher Marlowe. It starts:

_In summers heate and mid-time of the day  
To rest my limbes upon a bed I lay,"_

"I think I know that, he translated it from Ovid didn't he? We school boys loved him, Ovid that is, nothing spiced up the study of Latin like discovering Ovid. How does it end again?"

"You know perfectly well:

_Judge you the rest, being tirde she bad me kisse;  
Jove send me more such after-noones as this."_

"You naughty, naughty lady." Matthew looked around. "I can offer you a bed of bluebells."

She gave him a shocked look. "Sir I am a married woman! Nothing less than my own bed will do."

He laughed, grabbed her hand and started walking to the exit. "Come on, there's not much afternoon left."

It proved to be a delightful afternoon.


	30. It's All Over Now Baby Blue

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Them is recommended._

It's All Over Now Baby Blue

Tuesday, June 3, 1919

Mary watched Matthew as he ate breakfast. He was not the same man with whom she had gone to bed. This man was quiet, economical with his motions. She watched him put marmalade on his toast. He picked up his knife, blink, and it was done, blink, and the toast was gone. He looked at her and his eyes were a colour of blue she had not seen before, the blue on the edge of the sharpest razor. She shut her eyes. She shivered.

When she opened her eyes Matthew, her Matthew, was beside her, touching her arm.

"Are you OK?" he asked "I saw you shiver".

"I'm fine." Changing the subject she asked "Will you be gone all day?"

"Yes"

He did not elaborate and she did not press him, she knew he was meeting Harper.

"What are your plans?" he asked.

"Mother and I are going shopping. There's supposed to be some shops with the latest prêt-à-porter from Paris. I might find something suitable for the opera."

-0-

Matthew was standing at the specified street corner at the appointed time but there was no sign of Harper. It was not like him to be late. Matthew was just about to start walking away when a limousine pulled along side him and stopped. Its passenger door opened and a voice called to him "Get in, sir". Matthew looked and Harper was waving at him. Matthew got in.

Matthew was sitting beside Harper. Across from him was seated Col. Flashman.

"Colonel?" Matthew asked. He looked at Harper.

"I ...ah..." Harper started.

"Let me explain" said Col. Flashman. "Sgt. Harper works for me in Military Intelligence."

"Not still MI1?" Matthew smiled.

"No, our section has a higher number. Top secret, if you knew we'd have to kill you. Anyway Harper has kept me posted as to your various dealings with Carlisle. We even intervened once after the incident of the ink stained wretch. Sir Richard was looking to hire some hard men to deal with you; fortunately one of your hard men got word of it to Harper and we manged to dissuade Sir Richard from pursuing his plan. We thought Sir Richard then gave up, we did not appreciate what a subtle and diabolical mind he has. Which brings us to our meeting today."

"There is no need for a meeting, I'm going to seek him out and kill him." Matthew told them.

"You know that given Sir Richard's history with your wife" the colonel held up his hand to forestall Matthew's retort "purported history, you will then become the prime suspect."

"I'm working on an alibi"

"No need to, we have it all under control."

"But..."

Col. Flashman held up his hand. "Let me explain. First of all you should know that my masters are not enamoured of Sir Richard. He seems to think that he is the power behind the prime ministership. His demands are starting to get out of hand. He is threatening to publish what he purports to be the truth of the Shell Scandal. So if he were to..

"Die" Matthew suggested.

"Disappear" the colonel continued, "My masters would be much happier if Sir Richard were to disappear. If he were to be murdered, and if your alibi were to stand up, as I'm sure it would, then the next line of suspects would be, shall we say, rather close to the top. Disappearance makes more sense, especially when it is strongly suspected that Sir Richard has been evading his taxes and cheating his investors by syphoning his company's profits to Switzerland "

"I still mean to kill him"

"Quite right. A dead body can disappear, probably easier than a live one. You don't really care what happens after his soul departs downwards do you?"

"No"

"Then let us assist you."

"What do you propose?"

"A double feint..."


	31. Things Have Changed

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Bob Dylan is recommended._

Things Have Changed

Saturday, June 7, 1919

6:00 p.m.

Chamberlain hurried to answer the front door. He wondered who it could be. Sir Richard was at his office. His friends knew that he would be. Tradesmen knew enough to use the back entrance and none were expected anyway. It couldn't be someone looking for a staff member, they all had Saturday night off. Whomever it was was certainly giving the knocker a vigorous workout. He opened the door.

There were two men there. One held up a folder with a badge attached. "Metropolitan Police. You Chamberlain?" Not waiting for an answer they pushed in.

Chamberlain followed them in. "What is this all about?"

One of the men turned around. He had a revolver pointed at Chamberlain. "A robbery. Come sit down." They pushed Chamberlain into the dining room. They tied him in a chair. He sat there and listened. He could hear the robbers let some more people into the house through the back door. He could not tell how many. He tried to get loose but the knots were too tight.

A half an hour passed. The two original robbers came back. One pointed his revolver at Chamberlain, the other carrying some clothing which he tossed on the dining room table. He then untied Chamberlain. "Change out of your butler rig off into these clothes." Chamberlain could see that it was his best Sunday suit.

When he had gotten his shirt off the robber with the revolver told him to sit back down. The other took a hypodermic out of a case. At the best of time Chamberlain did not like needles and when he tried to object the revolver was pressed to his head. He cooperated. "Finish getting dressed and be snappy about it."

Once dressed the robbers lead Chamberlain out the back to the garage. He was starting to get woozy. He saw four suitcases beside the Bentley. Then everything went black.

7:30 p.m.

Matthew paced back and forth, he could not relax. The opera started in half an hour and his mother was late. She had insisted on picking them up. Where was she? He felt Mary's hand on his back.

"Don't worry, she'll get here" She smiled at him. "You haven't said how I look"

Matthew looked. And then he looked again. He motioned for her to turn around. She did. She was dressed in a red dress; short, scandalously so, just to her knees; shapeless, was that the right word, unstructured maybe. "Tres chic" he said. He reached out and touched her back. No corset. He smiled and trailed his hand around to her front and touched her breast.

She slapped his hand away. "Later! I just heard the front door"

Just then Carson appeared at the door of the drawing room. "Mrs. Crawley and ... Col. Flashman"

Matthew blinked. He looked at the colonel who smiled at Matthew.

"Matthew aren't you going to introduce Harry to Mary" Isobel asked. "Sorry about the delay, we got hung up in traffic" Matthew introduced Harry to Mary. "Good, let's get a move on, we can talk in the auto."

As they were walking out of the main door Isobel stopped. "Oh! I meant to give you this" and she draped a long white silk scarf around Matthew's neck "It's the latest style in Paris."

Mary gave his arm a squeeze. "Tres chic"

In the limousine, the same one in which Matthew had ridden with the colonel, he could not bring himself to call him Harry, the week before, conversation did not flow. The two couples sat facing each other.

Finally Matthew asked "What exactly is going on?"

"Harry and I are living together" Isobel gave him a defiant look and she snuggled up to Harry.

Matthew's head snapped towards Harry.

"I've asked her to marry me several times" Harry pleaded "but she won't without your permission"

"Well?" Matthew said. He could feel Mary put her hand on his thigh. She patted it. 'There, there' she was telling him.

"May I have permission to marry your mother?"

"Mother?"

"I told him I was perfectly content to live in sin"

Matthew sighed and Mary laughed. "Mother! Marry her, the sooner the better" he told Harry, which he thought was better than thinking of him as 'Father'. He reached across and the two men shook hands.

"In anticipation of your approval we have an appointment with the Registrar early Tuesday afternoon. We hope you both can attend."

Mary answered for them. "We'd be happy to. And you'll let us treat you to a wedding lunch." She and Isobel then discussed flowers and such for the rest of the trip.

Harry had arranged for a small four person box, in one of the back corners of the Royal Opera House. They arrived just as the overture was starting. Matthew insisted that Isobel and Harry sit in the front two seats while he and Mary took the back two. They settled in for the three acts of Tosca.

9:00 p.m.

Sir Richard sat in his office in the corporate offices of the Carlisle Group. Other than the night watchman he was the only person left in the building. He would have much preferred to be still back in his old office in the newspaper building but he had had to move after that unfortunate incident when the wild cat strikers had sacked it. He looked at the clock. The first editions of his Sunday papers should be delivered shortly, he would peruse them, call his editors about changes he wanted made in later editions, and then stroll down to Madame Gauthier's. He had a standing Saturday night order with her for a tall, slender, dark haired girl in her late twenties, the more aristocratic the better.

There was a knock on the door. Good, the newspapers he thought "Come in" he called out. The door opened. There was a man pointing a revolver at him.

Sir Richard could tell he was being lead through the halls, down the back stairs to the loading dock. He was blindfolded, gagged and his hands were bound with neckties. A curious choice for kidnappers he thought. He was pushed into what he thought was the back of a delivery lorry. He fell and lay on his face. He struggled to get up and was pushed back down. He could feel hands taking his rings, wristwatch and wallet. They took off his shoes and socks. Why he wondered. Then he could feel something cold on the back of his right leg, he could hear cloth ripping and he realized they were cutting his clothing off of him. He tried to kick one of them and the next thing he felt was something cold and metallic close around his ankles. He heard a clink Then they were wrapping something around his legs. It felt like chains. He could feel them lock the chains together at his waist. His mind screamed. He whimpered as he laid naked and shivering on the floor of the lorry wondering where they were taking him.

9:30 p.m.

The third act had just started when a faint knock came at the door of the box. Matthew leaned over and whispered in Mary's ear "It's very important that you play along. I'll be back shortly". Before she could ask any questions he got up and went out the door.

A moment later he came back and sat beside her. She turned to him, meaning to ask what that was all about, when she realized it wasn't Matthew sitting beside her it was...Matthew's friend, Thomas Silverfish, dressed in a similar tuxedo, with a white silk scarf around his neck like Matthew. She saw that he had on a blond wig on which wouldn't fool anyone as close as her but ... Thomas held held his finger to his lips, shh and pointed at the stage. She nodded and looked back to the stage. Her heart raced.

9:35 p.m.

Harry's limousine pulled up behind a delivery lorry which was parked in the middle of Waterloo Bridge right in the darkest spot equidistant from the two closest street lights. The bonnet of the lorry was up and the driver, Marx, was supposedly working on the motor. Matthew got out of the limousine and looked both ways, no one was coming. He knocked on the box of the lorry. The door swung open and Harper and Sparks jumped out. They pulled out the naked Sir Richard and took him to the bridge railing. They swung him over so he was standing on the river side of the railing, his feet having only the barest purchase on the bridge deck. The chains wrapped around him rattled as they did so. They held him there.

Matthew reached inside the box and retrieved a heavily weighed canvas bag. It contained Sir Richard's clothing and personal effects. He threw it over the railing into the river. He turned to Harper. "Did you find it?" he asked Harper.

"It was in his wall safe at his house. I've got it in my inside jacket pocket. You'll have to reach in and get it, I don't want to let him go."

Matthew reached into Harper's pocket and retrieved the small case. He opened it and looked at the ruby necklace and earrings. He took out the necklace and threw the case and earrings into the river.

He stood in front of Sir Richard, the railing between them. He reached up and pulled the blindfold off Sir Richard blinked rapidly and then recognized him. He then undid the gag. He threw both neckties into the river. Sir Richard gulped and looked like he was going to scream something so Matthew grabbed him by the throat. "Quiet". Sir Richard glared but did not say anything.

With his left hand Matthew grabbed the necktie that bound Sir Richard's wrists together. He motioned for Harper and Sparks to let go. They did so and backed away. Sir Richard wobbled but did not fall.

Matthew stared at Sir Richard. "I want you to know that I am killing you because you broke your word. What you planned for my wife was despicable.."

Sir Richard pleaded. "Why do you have to kill me? Nothing happened to her. No harm no foul. I'll pay you whatever you want."

Matthew hissed at him. "You tried to have her infected with the most horrible diseases you bastard" He held up the ruby necklace and swung it back and forth in front of Sir Richard's face. "And you tried to infect her mind. I was going to hang this around your neck but I can see it won't fit" and so he draped it over Sir Richard's hands.

"Time's up" Harper called.

In a quiet tone so only Sir Richard could hear Matthew whispered "And I'm also killing you because I didn't get a chance to kill that damn Pamuk"

Matthew let go of Sir Richard's wrists and gave him a little push in the chest. As Sir Richard fell backwards Matthew thought he heard him start to ask "Who's..."

The echo of the big splash hadn't even died away before the two vehicles were leaving the scene.

9:45 p.m.

There was a faint knock at the door of the box. Thomas Silverfish got up and went out. A moment later Matthew sat down. Mary turned to him but he just put his finger to his lips, shh, and pointed to the stage. He took her hand and squeezed it. Her heart rate started to slow down.


	32. Foot of Pride

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Lou Reed is recommended._

Foot of Pride

Saturday, June 8, 1919 continued

10:20 p.m.

The nightwatchman at the Carlisle Group building got loose and raised the alarm.

He told Inspector Vimes of Scotland Yard that two masked men had confronted him when he had answered their knock at the back door and they had tied him up. One had done all the talking, in a heavy Irish accent. He did not tell Vimes that the Irishman had slipped a hundred pounds in small notes into the inside pocket of his jacket 'as compensation for getting him fired.'

Vimes looked around Sir Richard's office. There was no sign of any struggle. The only thing out of the ordinary was a typed note on the blotter of his desk wherein the 'County Kilburn Soviet' claimed credit for the kidnapping of Sir Richard Carlisle, the 'notorious oppressor of the Irish people.' The only other time Vimes had heard of the 'County Kilburn Soviet' was when Sir Richard's house had been torched. He sniffed. He bet himself that the note had been typed on Sir Richard's secretary's typewriter.

It did not take Vimes long to find the wall safe. Even less time to find the combination, it was written on the underside of the blotter. The safe was empty. Vimes sniffed again. He must be coming down with something.

11:00 p.m. on

The Crawleys and the Flashmans went to a bistro for a late dinner and then embarked on a tour of the hottest London nightclubs. The ladies got gloriously and stinking drunk on the ersatz champagne served at those establishments. Harry and Matthew stayed sober, the older man worried about his protege and the younger man worried that his alibi would not hold up.

Once when the ladies had left to use the facilities, Isobel having made the old joke that 'you don't buy champagne, you just rent it', with Mary laughing uproariously in response, Harry reminded Matthew that their 'mutual acquaintance' had all the reasons in the world to disappear. And by the time the Thames was dredged up he would have well and truly disappeared. Matthew gave him a thin smile.

Sunday, June 8, 1919

6:00 a.m.

Chamberlain woke up with a splitting headache. He could feel he was on a moving train. He was laying fully clothed on the bed in a private compartment. He peeked out behind the blind. In the early morning light he could not tell where he was. He looked around. There were two suitcases on the little end table. There were some papers on the top suitcase. He looked at them. One was a folder containing a punched railway ticket to Dover and tickets for the cross channel ferry and Le Train Bleu. The other was a passport. He opened it. It was Sir Richard's passport but it had his photograph. He had a bad feeling about this. He opened the top suitcase. Amidst the clothing were bundles of cash. Cash that he strongly suspected had come from Sir Richard's wall safe. How was he going to explain this, especially with his record.

The first thing Chamberlain did when he got off the train was buy the latest edition of a newspaper. There was a telegraph bulletin mentioning the disappearance of Sir Richard Carlisle. He considered his circumstances. He did not have much time. He set out to disappear.

7:00 a.m.

Vimes walked through Sir Richard's house. The housekeeper knew nothing. She, the cook and the chauffeur had all gone to a music hall the last night. The other two knew nothing. Sir Richard and Chamberlain the butler/valet were both gone. The automobile was gone. There were no signs of any struggle. The housekeeper wasn't sure, it wasn't her department, but she thought some of the luggage and clothing was gone. Vimes found Sir Richard's home wall safe and the combination, what's the point of locking the safe he thought if you write the combination on the bottom of the blotter. The safe was empty.

10:30 a.m.

Sir Richard's automobile was found parked near Waterloo Station. There was no record of anyone purchasing train tickets under the names of Carlisle or Chamberlain but Vimes had not really expected that there would be. He was convinced they were heading south, to Europe.

When he had been promoted to detective one of the first lessons Vimes had learned was 'follow the money' so he had the department's forensic auditors rousted out. He then went back to his bedsit to catch some sleep.

5:00 p.m.

"He's been robbing his company" the head auditor reported to Vimes. "We'll call in Inland Revenue tomorrow and go through all the books with a fine toothed comb but it's pretty obvious once you know what you're looking for."

It was enough for Vimes. Carlisle had faked this Irish thing to cover his disappearance. There had been no kidnapping or worse. Let the taxmen and the investors pursue him. He was probably half way to Switzerland by now.

His stomach growled. He realized that he hadn't eaten for awhile. Indian would be nice.

5:30 p.m.

Mary opened one eye. It really really hurt to do so. She was very very dry. She saw Matthew sitting on the bed beside her. "Is this hell? It sure feels like it."

"You reap what you sow. Here, have some water and take this headache powder" and he held her up as she did so.

"Is it over?" she asked.

"Yes it is" he assured her.


	33. New Morning

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Darren Criss is recommended._

New Morning

Tuesday, June 10, 1919

Matthew and Mary read the morning newspapers with keen interest. The most prominent story in all was the disappearance of the newspaper magnate Sir Richard Carlisle. There was a suggestion by some that he had been abducted by Irish communists, but the interviewed police spokesman was noncommittal. Some of the papers implied that Sir Richard had staged his own disappearance to avoid his creditors.

Mary reached over and squeezed Matthew's hand "I won't ask..."

He took her hand and kissed it "Maybe someday..."

They did not know what to get the happy couple for a wedding present. They both knew what Isobel would say if they asked her what she wanted. A grandchild. They both worried that they could not give her such a gift. Given the lack of time their options were down to some hideous objet d'art or delay until they had seen the Flashmans' flat. They chose the latter option.

-0-

The wedding lunch started out subdued. Isobel was serene but Harry was nervous. He confessed he'd rather face Ashanti abrade than the Marriage Registrar, after all, the warriors had only taken his hand, this woman wanted his body and soul. They all laughed and the mood was lightened a bit but Matthew and Mary were both worried about their medical test results and Matthew also had an additional anxiety regarding the events of the previous Saturday night. An anxiety alleviated somewhat when Harry showed him a copy of Vimes' report with its recommendation that Sir Richard Carlisle's financial affairs be investigated and the man himself be looked for in Europe, and in particular Switzerland.

The civil wedding was rather mundane. The Registrar said a few words. Isobel and Harry exchanged vows, rather simple ones, they signed the book, Matthew and Mary signed as witnesses. Done. In under fifteen minutes. Next.

The two couples parted on the steps of the Registry office. Isobel and Harry were off to honeymoon in Provence. Where they had... Matthew held up his hand, he didn't really want to know.

Matthew and Mary walked to Harley Street for their respective medical appointments. There they found Matthew's specialist was on time but that Mary's had been called away on an emergency and there would be at least a two hour wait. Matthew offered to wait after his appointment but Mary refused.

"You don't really want to sit in that waiting room with a bunch of pregnant, or hoping to be pregnant, ladies. Go to your appointment and then go shopping and I'll meet you for tea at Brown's Hotel at four"

"You know I don't like to shop" he smiled at her "Unless there's a little trinket I can buy for you?"

"Thank you but I already have all the trinkets I need. Browse through the book shops, maybe you'll find something to read."

-0-

Matthew paced back and forth in the lobby of Brown's. Mary was late. He was just about to phone her doctor's office when he saw her getting out of a cab.

He waited as she entered the hotel. She saw him and walked towards him with a big smile.

"I'm sorry, the doctor ran even later than anticipated."

"Not a problem, you're certainly in a good mood."

"I am. Shall we go in to tea? Have they held our table? I'll tell you about it once we've been seated" and you'll be too inhibited to make a big scene she thought.

"You'd better tell me here. We won't be able to talk in there" he motioned towards the tea room.

"Why not?" Mary glared at him

"Ah..ah I invited someone to join us." Matthew stammered, Lord how he hated this effect she had on him. He pulled her into a little alcove off the lobby.

"Who?"

Matthew did not like the thin lipped look she was giving him. "Lavinia Swire and..."

"The Red Cross lady? The one who wrote your letters? How did this happen?"

He felt certain that her foot was tapping while she waited for his answer. "I was walking down Bond Street when I heard someone call my name and I turned around and there..."

"She was. Wanting to renew old acquaintances I presume"

Matthew grabbed her shoulders. "Will you let me finish? Miss Swire and her fiance were standing there. He was the one who called my name. He is an old friend of yours. So naturally I invited them to tea."

"Old friend of mine?"

"Yes, Evelyn Napier"

"Evelyn? How on earth?"

Matthew dropped his hands from Mary's shoulders. "It turns out that I introduced them, more or less. After Evelyn convalesced at Downton Abbey he went back into action and was wounded again. He ended up at the hospital where she was, where I had been; they started talking, he mentioned that he had been wounded before and treated at Downton; she said she had met a Capt. Crawley from Downton; he said why what a small world, I love a lady from Downton named Crawley" Mary gave him a small slap on his arm, but she was smiling when she did it so he continued "well he might just have said that you were old friends, anyway, long story short, as you will find out she is a very nice person to talk to and one thing lead to another and they are to be married next month. They've invited us but I said I'd have to ask you first."

She gave him a fond gaze. "I still can't get over the fact that you invited Evelyn Napier to tea. I thought you and he..."

"Why on earth would I not? He and I are the best of friends" Matthew said this with the same bland guileless look on his face that he had perfected on countless senior officers during the war. "Anyway before we go in tell me why you were smiling so"

"I was smiling because...your private parts are perfectly functional..."

"How would you know that? I just found out myself." He stared at her. "Unless.."

She nodded. "It's early days yet but all those tests they did are saying that I'm..."

Mary was not successful in keeping Matthew from making a big scene.

-0-

_Gentle Reader this is the natural end of this story but in violation of the 'leave well enough alone' rule there will be a postscript / epilogue at some point._


	34. Buckets of Rain

_A/N: Gentle Reader we come again to a parting of the ways. Your companionship has been greatly appreciated on these cold winter nights. And a special thanks if you have 'followed' this story, or more flattering yet, 'favoured' it. To know that there is someone looking forward to the next instalment warms the ancient bones of an old hack._

_And what to say to you Gentle Reviewers. Few in number but so prolific in output. If only Carson would sound the dinner gong and you could be escorted into dinner. After a sumptuous feast prepared by Mrs. Patmore the Earl of Grantham would lead us DA fanfiction writers in a toast in your honour. Then the gentlemen would forgo their port and cigars, the gramophone would be cranked up, and there would be dancing until the early hours. Sigh._

_Anyway back to business. We may meet again if the much delayed, and way over budget, "Curse of the Broken Entail' ever clears post production. To tide you over, and in response to the hints of some reviewers that they would like to see a child, even though they must know by now that this is fluff free story ... _

_A/N: The version of the chapter title song by Danny Schmidt is recommended._

Buckets of Rain

Postscript

The Inland Revenue and Sir Richard's creditors put his estate into bankruptcy. The Trustee could not sell Haxby Park as a whole and so he offered it piecemeal. The Strallens bought the farm land south of the house, and the Crawleys bought the farm land to the north, the land that abutted the lands of Downton Abbey. The house and surrounding one hundred acres were sold to a Mr. Thompson, reputed to be a retired American gangster. Be that as it may he proved to be a good neighbour.

In 1926 the bones of Sir Richard's body and the attendant chains were dredged up as part of the regular dredging of the Thames' shipping channel and dumped in the North Sea.

No one ever did ask Matthew where he was the night Sir Richard Carlisle disappeared.

In 1958 a fisherman caught a carp in the lower Thames and found a ruby earring in it. He gave it to his wife. She hung it on a gold chain and wore it as a necklace. Neither the actual necklace nor the other earring were ever found.

The Crawleys of Downton Abbey prospered even onto the fifth generation and therein lie stories to be told another time.

Although Gentle Reader, if you insist, we can take one little peek:

Saturday, August 1, 1936

"Excuse me my Lady"

Mary looked up "Yes Barrow?"

"Your Ladyship may wish to see this."

Mary sighed. "One of the children?"

"I believe so" Barrow smiled at her.

"You can't tell?"

"You really have to see for yourself Ma'am."

"Very well" Mary got up and followed Barrow. She did not have time for this. Matthew thought he could just wave his hand and say 'make it so' and it happened. Someone had to take care of logistics. Her.

Over the years, as the children had multiplied, the August garden party had metamorphosed from a sedate society function for adults to a raucous Jamboree for children. Between the Crawleys, Strallens, Bransons, Bates, Napiers, Harpers, Silverfishes, Marxes and Dearharts/Sparks plus her mother, the Flashmans and Mr. Thompson there were twenty two adults and forty five children plus Matthew had also invited the village's Scouts, Girl Guides, Wolf Cubs and Brownies. It was going to be a mad house this afternoon; and later tonight, after Silverfish set off his fireworks, well she was going to need a large, stiff drink. Maybe two.

They went through the kitchen. The tables were stacked high with boxes of hot dog buns and there were tubs of hot dogs / wieners / frankfurters (her mother used these terms interchangeably although it had taken Mary some time to catch on that they were the same thing) cooling on ice. Her mother, a Dowager Countess not at all like Mary's Grannie had been, her brood of grandchildren and Mrs. Harper had spent one summer developing what her mother judged to be a tolerable imitation of a hot dog and bun, although she complained they could not come up with an American type mustard that was yellow enough. So supper tonight was taken care of, they were having a wiener roast. Mary thought hot dogs were ghastly, especially charred black the way Matthew always roasted hers, but what was she to do, she loved him so, and he was always so proud of his culinary achievements.

Barrow held the door to the kitchen courtyard for her. She walked out and beheld a urchin covered head to toes in mud. The only things not coloured in black swamp mud were two bright blue eyes staring at her.

"Well?" She said as fiercely as she could without giving in to the laughter bubbling up inside her. She had been cast as the family's disciplinarian, Matthew early on having adopted the attitude that childhood was meant to be fun and as long as no stitches were required well, what's the problem. A role she might have been able properly to fulfil had she not been cursed with a sense of the ridiculous. And after three sets of twins, she wished Isobel had warned her twins ran in the family, she would have had Matthew fixed, she was inured to the ridiculousness of motherhood. This was not the first time she had stood in this courtyard having this conversation with one of her swamp covered spawn. Still she had to play out her role as it was written.

"Papa sent me to get changed."

Delivered with no fear of the consequences; clearly even her youngest was not afraid of her wrath, at least not today, the day of the Jamboree, when apparently no child could do any wrong..

"Into what Nod? A good little boy?"

"I'm not Nod! I'm Cottontail!"

Mary laughed "Well it's a little hard to tell right now". Especially since the events of this past Easter when someone, no one had ever confessed, had convinced Cottontail to glue felt bunny ears onto her hair; then when it was pointed out that Mother would not be at all happy, that someone had helped her cut the bunny ears out of her hair. The inevitable attempt to even out her hair on both sides had resulted in her having shorter hair than Grandpa Harry's bulldog, Haig. "Come stand under the pump and we'll get the worst of the mud off, then it's a bath for you. And so there's no mistaking that you're a girl I think it's a dress for you this afternoon."

Cottontail stuck out her lip. "I'm not wearing a dress! No one else will be, not even you"

Mary laughed again. "You've got me there. If not a dress, how about that pink cowgirl blouse Grannie brought you back from America? It will go nicely with your blue dungarees."

"OK. But I'm starting to itch and I'm cold" Cottontail held out her mud caked arms to Mary.

Realizing she was going to need a bath as well Mary reached down for her Cottontail, thinking 'this is going to be the last summer I can pick her so I might as well enjoy it, mud and all'.

She warned her "The pump water will be cold but the bath will nice and warm".

Just like life and family.

The End


End file.
